


Feral Youth

by dirtygsanchez, Johnlock_Baggins



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abduction, Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Drugs, Gay Sex, Knifeplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Torture, rickcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 55,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtygsanchez/pseuds/dirtygsanchez, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlock_Baggins/pseuds/Johnlock_Baggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youth AU fiction. (Evil-Curtains Rickcest ship - Tumblr - @evilgsanchez and @Rockerrick-555p) </p><p>Chapter 1 of a roleplay fiction between Evil Rick and Rocker Rick which is an ongoing work in progress, more chapters to be added. This particular scene / story is set in an alternative universe (AU) where Evil Rick (merely known as 'Rick' in this AU) is only 24 years old and is a budding young serial killer living in New York where he meets Rocker Rick, a 19 years old kid and has not yet found the fortune and fame of his Flesh Curtains band. </p><p>Rick had been living in New York for little over a year, having moved there just after his 23rd birthday. Already he had succeeded in eluding the authorities twelve times; twelve boys for twelve months, twelve boys to smell and savour, twelve boys to taste and touch, twelve boys to have and to hold. To hold until the light died in their eyes, branding his image into their mind’s eye as the last thing they would ever see and in that moment loving them more than anyone had ever loved them before or ever would again. It was time to begin identifying lucky Number Thirteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feral Youth - Chapter 1

**Feral Youth**

Rick had been living in New York for little over a year, having moved there just after his 23rd birthday. Already he had succeeded in eluding the authorities twelve times; twelve boys for twelve months, twelve boys to smell and savour, twelve boys to taste and touch, twelve boys to  _have_  and to hold. To hold until the light died in their eyes, branding his image into their mind’s eye as the last thing they would ever see and in that moment loving them more than anyone had ever loved them before or ever would again.

As he pulled his large overcoat on over his tight black t-shirt, he glanced over at the calendar in his apartment knowing it was time to begin identifying lucky Number Thirteen. Exiting the loft apartment he pulled his coat around him, clapping his hands together as he watched his breath steam the air, licking his lip scar which always stung in the cold. Despite nearly being spring the air still had a definite  _bite_  to it. He knew exactly where he was going of course, that was the purpose of week two, to scout the location he had identified during week one; to identify a target. Number Twelve had been well groomed and well mannered, pretty of course, they always were, but a little too  _breakable_ , he needed something a little less tamed, a little more wild, he needed a  _challenge_.

Number Eleven had told him about a place on the outskirts of the city, a large and abandoned derelict town house, one which had been taken over by squatters a few short months before hand. For those in the know the place had become renowned for regularly hosting drug addled, alcohol drowned underground gigs where no one cared who you were or even asked your name, frankly, it was  _perfect_.

Alighting from of the subway he made his way along the darkened streets, eventually reaching a stretch of road which was fairly bare apart from a few partially crumbling derelict buildings. Already he could hear the beat of drums in the distance which grew stronger as he approached, matching the excited thump in his heart. Easing the collar of his jacket up to obscure some of his face, he walked up the driveway then slipped up the side of the house choosing to enter via the rear and avoid the group of kids drunkenly draped over the steps leading up to the main entrance.

The place was huge, three stories high with large expansive rooms, each packed with people. Unsure of where to start he headed up to the top level, following the sound of a guitar. Making his way up the creaking crowded stairs he ignored the girl tugging on his jacket to gain his attention and swerved to avoid someone stumbling towards him with a drink, remaining silent as he continued to ascend to the upper level; when hunting it was important to keep a low profile. Rick of course found it hard to maintain that profile, being so tall, with unruly dark blue hair and hard chiselled features, he often attracted more attention than he wanted, so he kept his head down and kept walking.

When he finally reached the third floor he realised this area was more densely packed with people than any other section of the house, yet the music he had heard had already stopped. Easing his way through the crowd he caught sight of a rudimentary stage and to the side, several guys, potentially younger than himself, who seemed to be setting up to play. Easing himself into the middle of the rabble he stood stationary, his eyes immediately settling upon the back of a boy in the corner who was tuning his guitar, a boy with a dark blue tussle of hair.

Within less than a minute the band had taken to the makeshift stage and started to play but it was not just the [ **music**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DNUlOwfMNewQ&t=MjY5MjM1ZWFhZmNhZGU0MDYxODgwYWEyNGUxOWQ2OTM5ZjkxNWM0MixBMjBMVFBZdg%3D%3D) that captured Rick’s attention,  _no_ , it was the sight of himself, or more accurately, a boy who looked like he’d been made in his own image, a boy who, unfathomably, seemed to be singing directly to him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the clock hit midnight on his 18th birthday Rocker grabbed his guitar and a backpack of his few meagre possessions and split from the backwater bible belt town he’d been ‘raised in’. Now a legal adult it would be far easier for him to travel without issues, he couldn’t be scooped up by DCYF and thrown into another home. Over the next year, he hitchhiked his way up the coast, escaping the tormented life of abandonment he’d know and the wretched heat, trying to get as far north as possible. 

He’d play on street corners or in pubs for pocket money he often spent on drugs and booze, usually only eating when something was free. Although he was thin from malnutrition, he had a natural sturdy musculature to him. The young man didn’t eat well, but he was hardly starving. By 19, he’d already learned his pretty face could get him what he wanted and the line of willing playthings to take him home for the night was always full.  

When he hit New York for the first time in his life he felt home. The cold city with its endless dark alleys and rude self-absorbed citizens suited him perfectly. He could snap at a shop keeper and he’d snap right back until they both pulled guns on each other and laughed, parting ways with an understanding nod of mutual respect. The city was rough around the edges, just like he was and it also supplied an endless smorgasbord of wealthy, handsome business men who seemed to thirst for a sleazy, filthy lay like the young musician. He’d fuck them stupid, then clean them out. A couple months went by and he found an epic abandoned house to set up shop in. A rent free place the electric company seemed to not notice was still drawing lots of juice. A place he could be ‘found’ at when people wanted him, as his popularity was increasing quickly, he started to become a lord of the underground in this small capacity. 

He’d dug up some bandmates he could tolerate keeping around and before long he had a small following, playing mostly in the abandoned house to people happy to get out of the cold for the night and enjoy some free booze. This particular night the house was in rare form, bursting at the seams, it seemed word had definitely spread of the young up and coming rock star owning his tiny stage every Friday night. He’d been playing for hours already, still doing mostly covers and only a few original songs, he was bare chested in just his filthy torn old jeans and his body matched. The old house had running water, but he hardly saw the point in washing just to get dirty again. They’d taken a break to re-up their highs and down some beers and he was feeling nice and buzzed when he picked his guitar back up again. 

He sauntered over to the mic and ran his hand through his hair, eyes scanning the crowd. As the drums started his hips shifted along with them as he started to play along and sing. A smirk was curling up the corners of his mouth as he watched the crowd respond to his voice, he’d never tire of this. Commanding an entire room with his vocals, it was intoxicating. Then he spotted him. A lone stationary figure in the midst of swaying, chanting bodies reaching out for him. With the stage lights he couldn’t make out the man’s face, indeed he was only sure it was a man because of his height and build. He kept his eyes on the intriguing shadowy man throughout the song and into the next. Even though he couldn’t see him properly, the musician thought he’d found his plaything for the night. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 The crowd around him swayed and writhed to the music and while it moved as one, Rick stood entirely distinct from it, almost seeming to exist separately from it. He felt held to the spot under the boy’s gaze, his entire body forced rigid as he felt that familiar ache, that itching crawling wave that seemed to rise in his nerves and crash down hard in his gut; _this_ one, it had to be _this_ one.

As the band paused briefly to move into the next **[track](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a53unTOA7G0),** he was able to finally tear his eyes away from the boy’s face to more fully appreciate him; he looked skinny from undernourishment, but still strong enough to put up a good fight. The kid seemed filthy, evidenced by the provocative look on his face and the dirt ingrained in his skin, hmm….he’d definitely take his time to bathe that beautiful corpse, wiping every inch of it clean once he’d done with it. They were so alike in proportion that he found it almost unsettling, it was like staring at his younger more erratic doppelganger. The kid was a sweaty, high, handsome mess with confidence that seemed to seep out of him and infect everyone in the room. He was definitely no doe-eyed lazy-loved creature like Twelve, _no_ , this kid had sharp edges and troubled eyes and something about his demeanour suggested to Rick that the kid had perhaps been forced to fight an unfair share of battles but he’d not yet lost one, well, not _yet._

Something about this boy, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on told Rick the kid was probably too intelligent to be lured in by bait and too street smart to be directly approached, he therefore judged that a subtler technique was called for. As the set finally ended, Rick turned on his heel, swiftly exiting the room, if his instincts were right, this one would _follow_. Pushing through the crowd he made his way down to the ground floor, sat down in a quiet dark corner, lit a cigarette, swigged whiskey from his flask and _waited._

\------------------------------------------------------------

Rocker finally managed to pull his eyes away from the shadowy figure at the end of the next song. He’d been rooted in the spot almost oblivious of the rest of the crowd and performing on autopilot while he felt the unknown man staring up at him. He could have sworn he felt a shiver down his spine, something he attributed to anticipation, oh yeah he was going to have whoever the fuck that was. He was snapped out of his trance when he was hit square in the face by a pink bra that landed on his shoulder. Shaking himself, he didn’t miss a beat and looked down towards the front of the stage and the eager young redhead that had thrown it. He finished the set and she promptly flashed him and he grabbed her wrist to pull her up onto the small stage and into a deep kiss to wild cheers from the crowd.

After fondling the young thing for several moments his easily distracted mind found its way back to the stranger he’d noticed earlier and he quickly lost taste for the curvy one in his arms. He dropped her, literally, as he had her leaned back and she hit the floor with a thud as the musician scanned the crowd for that figure again. Fuck he’d scarpered. The girl kicked his shin and he pushed her off the stage in response “Out of my way girl.” He plopped his guitar down on a couch and set off through the house looking for the man. Shit. He hadn’t gotten a decent look at his face, how was he going to find him?

Fighting his way through clusters of people, he followed his feet which seemed to somehow know where to lead him. He found his way downstairs and had collected a beer and a cigarette on his way from random people. Sucking on the cigarette his drug and alcohol addled brain didn’t see the man he was searching for sitting in the corner of the room, but he could feel that he was still here, somewhere. He turned slowly on the spot scanning all the faces one by one. Exhaling an annoyed cloud of smoke he stomped over to lean against the wall, finishing the beer and crushing the cup to toss across the room. He crossed his arms and turned his head to look down the wall, then froze.

The barely visible outline of a person there in the corner had to be him. Rick just knew it. He watched the only thing he could, the light of a cigarette brighten as it was dragged on then get lowered away from the man’s face and the young musician broke out in goosebumps. He turned away to look coolly back at the room, dragging on his own cigarette. He’d found him, now it was the other guys move.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Rick sat unnervingly still, as the room seemed to move around him, the darkness of the corner so thick that he was barely noticeable. He hadn’t planned to take anyone tonight and had intended simply to pick a viable target and come back for it the following week when he was more prepared. Yet there was now a crippling urgency building in his stomach that was already causing him concern, something inside him whispered about the beauty of chaos and the need to abandon being planned, methodical and measured in favour of something spontaneous and more dangerous. He wanted a taste of death _tonight_ and feared he lacked the self-control to make himself play the waiting game, the boy had to be his, not next week, or the week after, _no_ , it had to be _tonight_.

The sight of the boy entering the room instantly settled any hesitation he might have had left; the kid was looking for him, it was _obvious_. Rick sat perfectly still, observing the boy from the corner, drinking in his eagerness, it was glorious, he felt it too of course, but he showed no outward sign of it. He watched as the kid leaned against the wall, a deflated and frustrated look passing over his young features. Rick made one small movement, stretching out his legs and crossing them at his ankle, hardly noticeable really, but it was enough to draw the kid’s attention towards him. He watched the musician freeze on the spot, like a rabbit caught in the headlights and continued to smoke his cigarette pretending he hadn’t been looking in the same direction. The young man had eased himself into a more causal stance now, one clearly designed to appear nonchalant, but it was anything but; he could feel the strange energy between them, as if everything else in the room had faded back and one was now merely waiting on the other to make a move.

Gathering his feet up from under him he stood up and leaned against the wall, crushed his cigarette under his boot and slipped another between his scarred lips. Pulling his broken lighter from his pocket he attempted to light it, his thumb rolling back and forth across lighter, causing sparks but knowing there was not enough flint to light it.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Rocker kept his eyes forward, but watched the other with his peripheral vision. He couldn’t help but straighten up when he noticed the other man stand however, it was completely reactional. His stance shifted again however when he noticed the other wasn’t advancing. He squashed the head off his cigarette between his fingers before flicking it off into the crowd and turned towards the shadowy corner. He took several bold steps forward, closing the gap, staring intensely at the man he couldn’t see fully. 

He cocked his hips and put his hands on them watching the only source of light flicker from an un-igniting lighter. He had the distinct feeling this one wasn’t going to come to him as he shoved his hand into his pocket. A challenge he couldn’t ignore, he hadn’t chased tail in months, he decided to experiment. Taking his zippo from his pocket, he flicked the cap off on his thigh then drew it back across his leg, lighting it with the denim. Continuing the smooth motion he snapped the lid shut again with his thumb and tossed it at the other man. He smirked smugly, then turned on his heel and headed outside away from throngs of people.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The kid had turned towards him, but there was still a noticeable hesitancy and although the musician had moved to close the gap between them, he hadn’t moved all the way and so a divide remained, one that seemed unacceptably wide. He had not yet looked up and instead his sight had been fixed on his lighter while actually staring at the boy’s feet. He finally, slowly straightened up to stare through the darkness at the young man only a few feet away from him. The boy hadn’t offered him a light, hadn’t acted as predicted and already he was excited by that. He watched the movement of the boy’s zippo, smirking at the kid’s clear and undeniable self-assurance. As it was thrown towards him his hand struck out from the black to snatch it, but instead of lighting his cigarette he slipped it into his pocket as a keep sake and placed his cigarette back into the packet.

Looking up he saw the rear of the kid as he exited the room and knew then and there that he had a choice to make. Peeling back the window curtain he caught the briefest glimpse of the back of the boy who seemed to be waiting on the porch. Carefully placing back the net veil he swiftly shifted out of the room towards the rear of the house. Sliding along the side of the wall he waited until it was fairly quiet then walked confidently down the drive. At a brisk pace he strode away from the house, back out onto the street, turning once to look at the boy, to catch his eye, walking backwards for a moment with a coy smile. Retrieving the boy’s lighter from his pocket he flipped it up into the air before catching it with a sly grin then turned his back on him.

\-----------------------------------------------

The rocker stood on the porch flipping a coin he’d found on the rail and looking up at the full moon. Cold, early spring night air stung at his half naked body and pinked up his cheeks. The sky was as clear as could be and full of stars for a bright city. Movement caught his attention and he looked down to catch the back of the man who’d at this point stolen his lighter, strolling off down the driveway. He was starting to hate the outline of this person. He laughed to himself watching the man turn around and clearly taunt him. “Asshole” he muttered, he loved that lighter. 

He laughed and put a foot up onto the rail, intending to jump over it and take off after the guy when a brisk, wintery wind cut through the air and made him shiver. Fuck. He’d pass out from hypothermia before he even got halfway through what he wanted to do with the guy. He looked at his foot on the rail, he didn’t have shoes on either. Still he nearly took off anyway, something about the lure of this mystery was damned near overloading his curiosity. But the man was already out in the street and by time he’s stolen someone’s jacket and found his boots he’d never catch him. “FUCK!” He hollered and punched the decaying, wooden support beam, which cracked and splintered in protest. 

In a foul mood now, having been denied his conquest, he kicked open the door and started shoving people, ordering them all to get out. Halfway up the stairs he grabbed a gun he saw sticking out of the back of someone’s jeans and set off several rounds to gain the attention of the room. “EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!” The hordes of people started rushing out and passing him on his way back up to the attic. He slept up there, enjoying being at the highest point. He watched all the party goes funnel out of the house and take off across the street, scattering into different directions. A ways down the road he could swear he saw the same shadowy figure under a street light looking back at the house, but it was probably just the drugs playing tricks on him. Mind games or not he toasted with his beer in that direction “You’ll be back.”

\---------------------------------------------------

There was a brief instant where he thought the half-naked kid might actually follow him, a crazy move in such cold weather. Rick had made his decision the minute the kid had walked out onto the porch, this boy was unruly, untamed and highly unpredictable and as much as it excited him, deep down he knew it only meant he needed to be better prepared. He picked up the pace, walking away from the house not daring to look back for fear it might further weaken his already crumbling resolve. He’d never been good at depriving himself.

As he neared the end of the street he heard the ring of screams and blast of gunshots in the distance and the sounds made him smile, the chaos only echoing the suppressed carnage in his heart. 

\-----------------------------

Six days to wait, six days to plan and prepare, to clinically clean the apartment rendering it a perfect crime scene and re-stock his liquor cabinet. Six days to formulate complex chemical compounds, some to heighten, some to sedate, to hide weapons, test restraints and sharpen his knives. Six days to be plagued by the image of the young boy, still so far from reach, pierced by blue eyes and sharp hipbones. Six days to furiously masturbate and gain no relief what-so-ever, he _needed_ to kill, nothing else could sate him.

When Friday finally arrived, he spent the day pacing the flat unable to distract himself for any sustained period of time, unable to think about anything other than his blade slipping between the boy’s rib bones to pierce his heart at the moment of climax. To witness that sublime look take residence on his face, the one they _all_ got; an intoxicating blend of horror and surprise as they watched their own vital fluids flow out of them, and whimpered into his mouth when they realised he was squeezing them tightly to make it flow _harder_.

As soon as darkness had fallen he slipped on his overcoat, feeling its new weight, knowing his pockets were laden with all kind of dangerous delights. Stepping outside he took a deep breath of the cold air and tried to centre himself, he’d never felt like this before, God it felt like the first, his hunger for the boy was beyond logic, beyond reason, it felt innate, it felt _necessary_. Pulling up his collar he headed towards the subway station.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The young musician was too pissed off to deal with the coursing lust that had built up in anticipation of getting his hands on the mystery person. Once the house was empty he flopped down on the dusty old mattress he’d dragged up there and lit a joint to relax. He laid there watching the moon drift across a hole in the roof smoking his way through the first joint and thinking about the guy who’d taken off. It certainly wasn’t like the dude wasn’t interested or fleeing from him, no, the guy was definitely playing with him. As he finished the first joint and started another, his aggression subsided and his hand found its way down to tug at the growing bulge the enticing situation was giving him. High as a kite by the end of the second joint, he came across his own stomach, with an image of having yanked the man out of the shadowy corner and taken him there on the floor in the middle of the party. “That’s what I should have done.” He bitterly mumbled to no one as he drifted off into a sticky sleep. 

He was too hungover to think of the man, or indeed anything the next day besides sleeping and quiet. Something not easy to come by in a city, so it was a stress filled day of annoyance, that only increased later that evening when he was wide awake in the middle of the night and remembered what he’d been denied then promptly smashed something. He hadn’t even seen the guy’s face, it’s not like he was some vision of beauty the rocker had to tear into. It was something else, something deeper, instinctual. He’d never felt anything like it, the odd draw. He wanted his hands around the man’s throat. Brimming with need to furiously fuck something he took off into the night and found himself a pair of playthings. Several sweet fluid swapping hours later, they had done nothing to satisfy him and he kicked them out of the dilapidated house.

Not used to sexual frustration, he was very much on edge for the next several days and becoming completely obsessed with this person who’d walked out on him. He cursed himself over and over for not walking right up to the guy and dragging him off to have his way with whether he wanted it or not. Fuck. If he ever saw him again, ever was in the presence of that odd tingle down his spine again, he wasn’t going to hesitate. He was going to punch the bastard square in the face for putting him through this and fuck him unconscious into the nearest wall. By the fourth day he was forced to stop jerking off because he’d made his skin raw, and the complete and total denial of any kind of release only made him all the more unstable. He spent the time out looking for trouble, picking fights and violently beating the shit out of several people. 

By the time Friday arrived and his band mates surfaced for the customary weekly gathering a twisted darkness had settled over him as his mood had continued to deteriorate. His bare torso was actually clean for one, having had to wash off the blood from the previous owner of the new boots he was wearing, though his knuckles were all split and caked with blood from punching things. He had a nasty looking gash on his arm from where one bastard had pulled a knife on him and several bruises across his pale skin. His friends actually recoiled from the look of him before becoming concerned. “Fuck off, it’s nothing to do with you” he’d snapped at them “Get ready for the set.” He was hoping the rush of the adoration of the crowd would soothe him and he wouldn’t admit it to himself but he was also desperately hoping to see a familiar shadow in the room, so he could ring his neck.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

As Rick walked along the dark street towards the house, he was forced to deliberately slow his pace to a causal stroll having noticed he’d been marching towards it with clear and violent purpose. If he wanted to slip into the house without attracting attention to himself it was imperative that the demeanour he projected was far more carefree and relaxed. Rolling his shoulders back and cracking his neck and fingers, he shook out the tense tight coiled up feeling in his muscles and walked forward like an entirely different man.

His plan was a simple one; to repeat the sights and sensations from the previous pattern, to observe any differences and tempt the kid to take a different approach, an approach it was important the boy chose himself. He could come willingly or against his will, it made no difference to Rick, willingly however would make it much easier mind you, especially given how crowded the house was, something he quickly realised as he reached the drive way noticing the place was even busier than the week before.

Slipping up the side of the house he made his way in via the rear entrance and headed straight to the stairs. Each step towards the upper level caused a strange nausea to swirl in his stomach, an overwhelming blend of crushing anticipation and building excitement that he hadn’t felt for months. There was of course every likelihood that boy might not even be here, but he refused to entertain the thought seriously, something told him he would be here and whatever that something was, it was _right._

This time the band were already **[mid-set](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9yCfQ7lFGmw)**  when he entered, the kid knocking it out full force to a screaming, wasted, rowdy crowd. Rick slowly moved to the centre of the room and took residence in the middle, silent and still, watching the boy, the very sight of him filling up something within him that had felt hollow until now. The musician seemed to have sustained some injuries since he’d last laid eyes on him, the curvature of a surface level knife slash and an intricate network of purple-blue bruises now adored his pale torso and Rick couldn’t help but marvel out how much the marks suited him, he definitely have to make some more.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Once the music had started and he felt the familiar thumping of the bass and drums coursing through his body the young musician relaxed some, falling into a trance as he lost himself in his performance. A buzzing persisted in the back of his mind however and he kept scanning the room for any signs of the man who’d eluded him a week ago. Every time he scanned the crowd his frustrations bubbled to the surface. It felt as if he’d barely contained a rabid animal behind a rickety gate that threatened to break free at any moment. 

He had his back turned to the crowd, playing and singing at the drummer who was lewdly mimicking giving him head to the cheers of the crowd. He had a wide grin across his lips when he turned back to the room that quickly fell from his face when his eyes landed on the lone stationary figure dead centre in the room…again. Fuck, how long had he been there? Rick didn’t know. He kept his eyes locked on the spot, brain still moving through the song on auto pilot and he frantically worked out what he wanted to do. He could be stubborn to a fault and now that the guy was here he considered remaining aloof, ignoring the bastard and forcing him to come to him. But in a flash he remembered how aggravated he’d been over this all week and the dam broke. 

His guitar came tearing off of his shoulder and dropped to the stage as he leapt off of it and tore through the crowd. Shocked by the sudden unexpected actions the people parted for him, stumbling over each other to get a look at him as he sprinted towards the man. He had spots in his vision from the stage lights but it didn’t impede his actions. The young musician had the mystery person in his sights and he lunged for him, intending to grab him by his jacket and shove him back against the wall while the crowd watched. He stopped dead within a couple feet of the other however when his vision finally cleared and he got his first proper look at the guy. He was staring at himself, or rather someone who looked incredibly like him. He narrowed his eyes taking in the sight in front of him, well he was even more intrigued by this situation now. The shock had pushed aside his annoyance temporarily. He cocked his slim hips and adopted a more relaxed, cool stance. “Well fuck me, you’re gorgeous aren’t you.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------

He knew he had been spotted, the moment clearly marked out by the swift change to the look on the boy’s face, his wild, exuberant stage presence all but wiped from it for a brief instant. The musician continued to perform of course but now it was almost automatic, he could see the internal calculations lurking under the boy’s surface and could only assume the kid was trying to carve out some kind of plan of action for when the music stopped and the lights went down….but Rick was  _wrong,_  gravely so. Yes, the music had stopped, but not in any kind of way that was welcomed, the kid had cast off his guitar and was suddenly tearing through the crowd towards him. Instinctively Rick took a step backwards but the bodies behind him were packed hard and held him in place. As the kid stopped in front of him, Rick could feel his skin crawling; every set of eyes in the room were fixed on the pair and any hopes he’d had of keeping a low profile, were, in that split second, blown to smithereens.

Standing face to face for the first time all of their parallels and stark similarities were pulled firmly into sharp focus and the effect was staggering, aside from a few surface level differences, they seemed almost identical with only a few years age difference between them. 

When the kid addressed him a hush seemed to fall over the captivated crowd and Rick started to panic; the longer he stood there, the more identifiable he became. Saying nothing, he turned and started to push his way through the crowd towards the door but just as he neared the exit a huge guy grabbed at his coat and deliberately blocked his path. Rick wasn’t good when corned and in response immediately grasped the lapels of the man’s jacket, pulled him forward and brutally head-butted him, sending him straight down to the floor. Stepping over the guy he pushed his way past the few remaining sweaty bodies and started to descend down the stairs, not daring to look back, not knowing if he was being followed. He could only  _hope_. The scene he’d caused would make him look weak, perhaps even vulnerable, just as a wolf in sheep’s clothing  _should_  look. The boy was perceptive, he couldn’t let him catch a glimpse of what he really was, not if he wanted to taste him between his jaws by the end of the night. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs he slowed and made his way to the front entrance pushing open the door, out from the sweaty heat into the cold air to finally, deeply breathe. 

\----------------------------------------------------

People in the crowd started murmuring, some wondering if they were going to fight, others wondering if they were brothers. The rocker scoffed at their comments and kept his gaze on his look alike. It was the strangest thing, maybe the crowd we’re onto something, the musician was abandoned very young, it was entirely possible he had an older sibling.

As quickly as he had the thought he dismissed it, watching the man now back up and try to start forcing his way through people. Now that he’d laid eyes on him Rick only wanted to fuck him more, the lust to be buried deep within the man becoming wholly consuming the more he looked at him. He immediately followed the other when he started to make headway though the group of party goers, having a much easier time of getting through until a young blond boy stupidly tried to grab hold of him. The rocker kneed the boy in the balls to get him to quickly release him and untangled himself from the kid’s arms.

He nearly tripped and stumbled as he made it to the edge of the group and in his haste he pushed a girl down the stairs. He wasn’t letting this bastard get away from him again, especially not now that he’d seen his face. He jumped the banister four steps from the bottom and sprinted across the room to close the gap as his doppelganger opened the door. “Hey! Hey! Wait! What are you running from? ” He laughed since nothing about the man’s movements indicated he was fleeing, it was all part of the game and the rocker knew it. He grabbed someone’s leather jacket from an armchair and ran straight outside after the man.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Rick heard the girl fall, the scuffle of feet, the high-pitched scream and the tumble, followed immediately by a loud thump as someone landed heavily behind him, but it wasn’t the girl,  _no_ , it was musician who was calling out to him, who had jumped down the stairs and was scrambling to the door to stop him from leaving for a second time. 

Rather than turn to address him, Rick continued out onto the porch sensing the boy would follow. Only then, in the cool night air and surrounding darkness did he finally decide to respond. Turning on his heel to face the house he looked down to retrieve a battered pack of lucky strikes from his coat pocket. Slipping one between his scarred lips, he paused to light it with the kid’s Zippo and then finally raised his head to look at him directly. As their eyes met, piercing blue locking with dark hazel, he was forced to put all of his efforts into suppressing any expression of his arousal elicited by the mere sight of his seemingly younger self. The boy was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, wild, unpredictable and utterly beguiling and that made this dangerous, it  _felt_ dangerous, the kid was clearly no victim, the kid was something else entirely. 

 _“Aren’t you more interested in where I’m running to?”_  He replied with a dirty smirk, gently caressing the lighter between his fingers before throwing it back to the boy.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

The musician skidded to a halt when he caught up with the other, slipping his arms into the jacket to cover some of his bare chest from the cold. He watched the man with his lighter and half moved to try and snatch it back before the other caught his gaze. His mouth fell open slightly as he took in the deep hazel of the man’s eyes and he licked his lips. It was taking an extraordinary effort not to grab the man and kiss him, so excited by this unexpected chase that he was quite keen to take the man right here on the lawn. 

He shoved his hands in the pockets of the stolen coat and relaxed into himself. Recovering from the surprise of the man’s appearance and the need to not let him get away again. He studied the face so like he own, yet irrevocably different, as the man drew on the cigarette. He seemed to have this looming darkness about him, like he was shroud in a menacing aura. With the nonchalant way he exhaled smoke from his scarred lips and his confident, commanding stance, Rick was captivated by the man. He felt dangerous and it made the hairs on the back of the musicians neck stand up to be face to face with him. 

His hand shot out to catch his zippo, automatically popping the top with his thumb and rolling the flint, an action that was something of a restless habit. He took steps forward, closing what was left of the gap between them with a low chuckle at the other’s question. “I’m more interested in how you taste..” he stated bluntly, reaching out to grab the man’s hip and pull him towards him “and I think you came back because you’re interested in the same thing.”

\-------------------------------------------------------

He could sense the heat radiating off of the boy’s body as he stepped closer to close the distance between them. The feeling of a hand suddenly gripping tensely to his hip instantly prompted him to snake his own hand around the kid’s shoulder and snap to the back of the boy’s neck to maintain the separation between them, to hold him in place and study his playful expression.

 _“Oh I’m interested in far more than that.”_  He replied, parting his fingers and scraping them up the back of the boy’s scalp, stopping mid-way to gather a fist full of his sweaty hair and wrench him forward towards him, closing the remaining gap. The boy had no idea of the awful truth resting behind that statement and that fact in itself thrilled Rick beyond measure. 

He paused, his eyes now fixated on the boy’s lips, his heart beating so heavy and hard, the rhythmic pulse of flowing blood filled his ears. “ _What are you waiting for?”_  He asked with a raised eyebrow, the question stated with a clear edge of aggression, as if laying down a challenge _. “Taste me.”_

\-----------------------------------------------------

Rick tried not to shudder at the other’s touch at his neck. He was far more used to people becoming blushing puddles in his arms, not being reduced into one himself. This man was feeling more and more like himself with every passing second. It was a very peculiar sensation, and an incredibly alluring one. His lips curled up into a delighted grin when his look alike confirmed his suspicions and he felt a knot of butterflies develop in his stomach. He was suddenly quite nervous, it had been a while since he’d been with anyone who made him question his talents. The young musician hoped he’d be able to deliver whatever the man was looking for, because he wanted everything in return. 

Trying his hardest to keep the nerves in his gut and not let them make his muscles shake, he slipped his other arm around the man’s waist in response to the fingers in his hair. A shaky inhale of arousal exposed his jitters before he swallowed hard to reclaim them. “Waiting?” He chuckled as his mouth started salivating expectantly “Oh I’m not waiting gorgeous. I’m savoring.” he brought his face right up to the other’s to inhale his scent like appreciating a fine wine, then hesitated just a moment before claiming the scarred mouth into a deep demanding kiss. A week’s worth of anticipation also had him over eagerly clawing at the man’s hips tugging him into his hips as he forced his tongue into the other’s mouth

\-------------------------------------------------------

Despite the boy’s cocky, confident demeanour, Rick could still feel those delicious little shudders lurking just under the surface of the kid’s pale skin, betraying the boy’s inner excitement as he held him close and hoped their proximity made the boy’s stomach swirl just like it did his own. He studied the other as he waited for a response, already realising that he could easily lose himself in those intense sea-blue eyes. As each second passed he noticed more and more of their similarities, the list was already perversely long; if this was the height of narcissism, he intended to scale it and stand at the top with his dead other self, cradled in his arms.

The arm sliding around his waist told him of the boy’s intentions, while the skittish shake in the muscle told him the kid was already questioning whether he might be out of his depth. Rick resolved to shallow the waters, after all, they had a long way to go before the point of drowning. He tightened his grip on the kid’s hair and gave it the tinniest of tugs just as the boy breathed him in, clearly signalling his desire for the musician to take what he wanted before the opportunity passed. The kiss that immediately ensued was no tender exploration, it was messy, harshly violent and surprisingly desperate, clearly both had spent the week thinking about this;  _no_ , not thinking, obsessing, it was _obvious_ , marked both by its duration and intensity. Rick felt like this kid was going to eat him alive and stumbled back as the boy pushed his weight against him and tightly clung to his hips to keep them together as they both fought to maintain balance.

The taste of the kid’s eager tongue, the scent of his fever sweat and the feel of his young grasping, greedy hands all combined to build Rick’s sense of arousal at a tremendous pace and as his hand reached into his coat pocket to caress his knife, he knew he had to stop this before he lost control of himself. Snapping the boy’s head back by his hair, he grinned at him and tried to force away the look her could feel written all over his own face, the look that clearly communicated he wanted to tear this young boy apart. “ _I’m Rick.”_  He gasped as he fought to catch his breath and calm the stirring between his legs.  

\-----------------------------------------------------

The mystery man tasted every bit as good as the musician had imagined. The weight of the man’s body against his, the tight tug at his hair, the adrenaline still coursing through his body from the small chase all combined to give him a high that had nothing to do with the standard cocktail of party drugs he’d taken. The kiss was unlike any he’d experienced before and turned his excited lust into a demanding hunger. He needed to take this man apart.

His hands had slipped up under the man’s coat to grab handfuls of his shirt, clutching him to him with a desperation for more. He all but growled as his head was yanked back and the kiss was taken from him. The musician could tell this man was an intoxicating addictive force and he wanted to be consumed by it. He made no attempts to hide the already solid erection confined in his jeans, a speedy result of the excitement and withdrawal from going completely without release for two days. Instead he pressed it into the man’s thigh by way of an invitation. A sly smirk curled up his lips when the man introduced himself and he chuckled, this just kept getting weirder. “Well I’ll be damned. Sexy as sin and a fantastic name.” He untangled himself and took a small step backward, running a hand through his long hair “You can call me whatever you feel like screaming later handsome"

\--------------------------------------------------------

That confidence again, oozing from the kid, spilling out of him, powerful and electrifying, serving, he suspected, as both a weapon and a shield; a charm offensive which was also heavily protective. He really looked forward to the point of the night where the flustered boy would be completely stripped of it and he could peer at what existed underneath before pulling it to pieces with his bare hands.

Absentmindedly he ran his own fingers through his hair, unwittingly mirroring the boy’s movements as he listened to him speak. He’d had all sorts of plans in place to get this one home, most involving sedation of some sort or inflicting some kind of injury, but as he stood there, his eyes drifting down the boy’s tight young body to settle on his glaringly hard erection, Rick concluded all of these were completely unnecessary. All the others had instantly mistrusted him, something about him naturally put people on edge and it meant he had to work hard to gain the trust he planned to exploit. He sensed none of that natural apprehension from the kid standing in front of him and so decided to sidestep the bravado and move straight to the truth.

Stepping closer again he slowly slipped his hands inside the boy’s leather jacket to grip lightly just above his slim hips. “ _You’re beautiful, I want to take you home...”_ He whispered, bowing his head to speak softly against the boy’s warm neck. _“I want to fuck you so hard you can’t find the breath to scream anything.”_

_\----------------------------------------------------------_

As his counterpart took the step forward the musician had just taken back, Rick felt a shudder of apprehension tear down his spine. He felt like he was nose to nose with another predator, though he had no idea they expected very different things of their prey.

Rather than recoil from the impending threat of the other man, the Rocker was willingly jumping into his web. The young musician had little to lose and so harboured no fears of entrapment. No sense of danger that would lead him to flee. He arched slightly into the grab at his hips, sending them forward eagerly towards the other licking his lips again. The man’s words met his ears and alighted all of his nerves making him tingle all over in anticipation. There was nothing he wanted more. He shifted his own head to better expose his throat to the other man, tone dripping with heavy arousal “Mmmm I thought you’d never ask”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 _“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that was a request_.” He teased, enjoying every aspect of the boy’s surrender.

 _“You playing another set?”_ Some drunk kid hollered at them both as he approached, more stumbling than walking. Rick flashed the drunk fuck a wholly fake smile and tugged on the boy’s wrist, _“Time to go.”_ He asserted _,_ his voice admittedly more low and menacing than intended

A cab ride directly from one address to another was far too risky and as much as Rick _liked_ risk, he concluded it wasn’t worth it, so they took the subway back into the meatpacking district. The entire time the kid’s hands were all over him, slipping into the warmth of his coat, sliding over his thighs, smoothing along the sharp line of his jaw. Rick had moved them through the subway cars to locate one that was mostly empty. He’d been keen to avoid people witnessing the two of them together but it had also offered him the opportunity to pull the boy onto his lap, opening up his leather jacket to trace his tongue down the boy’s pale bruised torso. Smoothing his thumbs against the sharp bones of the boy’s hips he sighed with arousal, lamenting the fact the still had three stops to go; he was becoming impatient and the kid’s clothes were fast becoming an inconvenience.

As they alighted at 14th Street, he ran his fingers through his hair and lit a cigarette. _“Not far to go._ ” He commented, stretching his neck back to plume smoke high into the air. Within a few minutes they had reached the building, a former slaughterhouse transformed into apartments, with a large amount of its original features kept intact. He paid for it by manufacturing small batches of experimental drugs, developing them in a lab based in Newport but he had no intention of telling the kid that. Whenever anyone asked him about it he told them his parents were dead and had left him money. It was true in a sense, his parents were dead, but they’d left him nothing but a lovingly restored 1976 Cadillac Eldorado convertible which he’d sold to put the down the deposit for the apartment and set up a small lab prior to getting financial backing from newly established criminal contacts.

Keen to avoid his neighbours setting their eyes on the boy he jumped up and grabbed the metal ladder to the fire escape running down the side of the building, muttering something about the ‘scenic route’ as he started to ascend the stairs. Finally reaching the top he flicked his cigarette down to the street below and used a key to gain access to a large window that opened up into the studio space in the loft which he rented.

He’d chosen the place mainly for the soundproofing; the walls were made of thick concrete and the apartment below was uninhabited, having been abandoned half-way through refurbishment, presumably because the owner had run out of money.

The place was fairly minimalist, and most of the furniture belonged to the landlord, meaning he could pack up a leave at a moment’s notice if he had too; it was important not to get attached, to possessions or people. Originally he’d thought about putting a lot of the guy’s stuff in storage, but he’d suspected that should the apartment appear too bare, people might suspect its true purpose; this wasn’t just a former slaughterhouse, it was an active one.

Shrugging off his coat he carefully laid it over a chair and turned towards the boy to offer him a drink. “ _What’s your poison?”_

\----------------------------------------------------

Rocker was so absorbed in his counterpart he hardly hear the drunk guy call out to him nor the change in this new Rick’s tone. He eagerly allowed himself to be led away from the house full of people wanting nothing more than a nice private space to have his way with the other man. His one track mind had him taking every opportunity possible to caress him, grab at him and kiss him. He all but got on his knees in front of the man on the subway, but he tried to have some self restraint and wait. 

When they finally arrived clear on the other side of town and got off the subway Rocker found himself hoping this one would be the breakfast the next day kind merely because he didn’t want to deal with that trek back at lord knows what time they’d finished with each other. The musician laughed at the fire escape entrance, immediately thinking this guy was also a squatter and the proper owner of this place was out of town. Something he had done so often himself, it only served to make him like the guy even more. 

Once in the apartment the Rocker let out a low whistle “Not too shabby.” He liked the rugged exposed look of this loft style and he immediately started walking around like he owned the place inspecting everything. Hands shoved in his pockets, his boots echoed on the wood due to the sparsely furnished space with such high ceilings. “Arsenic..” he jokingly replied, looking from the bed to the couch trying to decide which to sit on. He slipped his jacket off of his shoulders and tossed it on the couch and stretched out his back from the long subway ride over. He plopped down on the foot of the bed to kick off his boots waving dismissively at Rick “I’ll have whatever you are handsome” 

\----------------------------------------------------

Rick smiled to himself as he heard the sound of the boy sitting down on the edge of his bed, turning in response to watch the kid kick off his boots, glad to see he was making himself at home in his final resting place. Twelve boys had died in this apartment but not one of them in his bed, that honour it seemed was definitely meant for _this_ one. 

 _“Whiskey it is.”_  He replied causally, bending to retrieve a half smoked joint from an ashtray to relight it. Grabbing a controller he pressed play on his **[stereo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hj6UNM8WANU)** , keen to banish the silence and cover the sound of company.

Heading to the kitchen he selected the glass he’d specifically prepared for the young musician; the rim was coated with a tasteless clear chemical, one that would quickly absorb into the boy’s lips and help to relax him. Admittedly he suspected the kid didn’t need any help to relax but he liked his rituals and this was one of them. 

Despite Rick’s calm and collected demeanour he was infected with excitement, it swirled in his stomach and made his skull itch, _this_ was the part he liked best, where he could take his time, where he could pay tribute to the boy by alighting every part of him, making the kid sick with intense sensation before extinguishing it completely.

Standing in front of the boy, towering over him, he handed him the glass and watched him thoughtfully as he sucked on the end of the joint. This time it was definitely more than that, despite hardly knowing the kid the attraction he felt transcended the physical, this one was _meant_ for him, he could feel it. He wanted every part of the boy for himself, everything the kid wanted to give and everything the kid didn’t know he could take.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

After removing his boots he thought about yanking off his jeans too, it was obvious why there were here after all, but he decided he’d rather enjoy the sensation of the other man pulling them down and off of him instead. A thought that sent yet another tremor of anticipation down his spine. His cock had remained dutifully hard since they’d left his house and was begging to be released from the confines of the material. He couldn’t help but to palm across his bulge several times for some sort of contact.

He scooted back further onto the bed and sat cross legged as the music came on. He liked the way the track deepened the mood in the room. Fuck this was going to be good and he intended to savor every second of it. The week worth of waiting to satisfy his lust with this man equally made him want to ravage him hard and fast as well as take it slow and let things build even further. He shrugged to himself and resolved to let his body decide for him as he always did. He smirked at the mention of whiskey and turned his roaming eyes from the concrete walls of the room to his host as Rick walked towards him. He was practically sober by now and was eager for a drink, and the smell of the joint was enticing too.

The rocker accepted the glass with a nod, putting it right to his lips to down a quarter of it. A drop spilled over the edge and he ran his tongue along the rim to collect it in a suggestive fashion as he looked up at the standing man. He leaned back onto one arm, arching his back and showing off his lean, pale torso. He swirled the remaining whiskey in his glass with his other hand, keeping his eyes locked seductively onto his counterpart. “You gonna let me suck on that joint too?” he teased taking another mouthful of the alcohol. Hissing at the burn, he felt a wave of relaxation pass through his muscles, fuck this was some good shit. “Or maybe you’ve got something else I can suck on.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------

He raised an eyebrow and passed the joint over to the kid, damn that cocky mouth, he couldn’t wait to _fill_ it. Bending down he grabbed the boy’s boots and moved them to sit against the wall out of the way.

Moving across the room he sat on the sofa and removed his boots, similarly placing them in a space that seem specifically carved out for them. Moving back over to Rick he sat down on the bed beside him, maintaining a teasing distance from him as he allowed his eyes to rake over every exposed inch of the kid. The boy was thinner, strong, but less muscle mass, he liked that, liked that he could consider the boy delicate and sturdy at the same time. Raising his hand he plucked the joint from the boy and took a deep draw, while smoothing his hand around the boy’s smooth angular jaw, trying to decide whether he should break it later or keep it intact.

_“Take off your clothes and go shower.”_

_\-------------------------------------------------------_

The musician took the joint and laid back across the bed as he puffed on it, resting his glass on his taught stomach. He inhaled deeply and watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling, a contented smile across his face. He was finally fucking here, with the mystery man that had plagued his dreams all week. He decided he didn’t mind them taking their time, after waiting so long it would be worth it.

Laying on his back he didn’t see the movement of his companion but rolled right over onto his side when Rick came onto the bed. Forgetting about the glass he nearly spilling the whiskey, he snatched it quickly and threw the rest of it back. It seemed the weed was making his brain fuzzy fast, he had no idea there was an unknown substance in his blood.

He placed the empty glass on the bed and propped his head up with an elbow. Making no effort to hide the hungry way his eyes combed over the other man. Ricks touch was intoxicating. Fuck he needed his mouth on him and he was just about to lean forward and do just that when an order was barked at him. Puzzled and amused he sat up and gave the other a look “Shower? What the fuck do I need to shower for?” his tone clearly displayed that he found the idea appalling.

\------------------------------------------------------

The request for the boy to shower had been made for a number of reasons, firstly and most significantly, the kid wasabsolutely _filthy_  and as much as he was loathe to admit it, Rick had a burgeoning obsession with cleanliness, one born of OCD but fed by his paranoia when it came to disposing of bodies. Secondly, the cleaner the kid was, the less DNA evidence he could leave in the apartment, he’d made them  _all_ shower and this one wouldn’t be any different. Thirdly, he wanted to search the boy’s pockets and then do some cocaine and having the kid out of the room provided the perfect opportunity for him to do both.

The kid’s disgust at the requirement was almost amusing and immediately explained his current state. Drifting the back of his palm down the boy’s cheek his tone warmed to match the gentle touch.

 _“Oblige me, we all have our weaknesses.”_ He’d opted for the soft approach in hope the kid wouldn’t wish to offend him and would merely assume he was an odd-ball. There were of course other ways for Rick to get the kid to do  _exactly_ what he wanted, but those ways, well, he’d intended for those to be used a little  _later._

The boy, still looking somewhat outraged by the request, rolled his eyes exaggeratedly before lifting himself off the bed and as he walked towards the bathroom he made sure to slip himself out of his clothes leaving a trail of them behind him strewn all over the floor. Rick chuckled to himself and waited until he heard the sound of running water then got up to retrieve each over causally discarded article of clothing. 

Searching through the boy’s jeans he found a couple of plectrums, a crumpled pack of cigarettes and the Zippo lighter he’d held onto for a week while waiting for their next encounter. In his jacket he found the boy’s wallet but it contained no ID, only an old gig ticket, a twenty dollar note and a rubber. In the other pocket he found a blunt pen knife, which he took and placed into a drawer. Finally he retrieved the boy’s phone, finding, much to his surprise, that the pattern required to unlock the home screen was the same as his own; the coincidence made him smile. In only a few short moments he had factory reset the device removing all history and contacts. Removing the sim card he burned it with the zippo also burning the plastic of the device to make it look like it had malfunctioned. Placing it back into the jacket, he folded the clothes and left them in the corner on top of a plastic bag, one he would tie tightly and incinerate in his narcotics lab at a later point. 

Hearing the sound of running water cease he reached for one of his books, the inside had been hollowed out and now only contained a personal supply of cocaine and a thin metal tube. Wasting no time he prepared a modest line, consumed it and replaced the book before pausing to appreciate the sensation of the metallic tasting chemical drip down into the back of his throat. Reaching for his whiskey he washed away the taste, placing down the glass just as his heart began to thud and his head started to faintly roar, signalling the high had entered his blood stream and was making him feel just that little bit more in control. He was  _ready_ , there was only one more thing he needed……and there he was. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Once in the bathroom the filthy musician flipped on the water and turned to take in his state in the mirror. He’d showered only a day previous but still somehow had managed quite the layer of grime in 24 hours. He smiled at his reflection, fuck he loved being grimy.

With a huff and a puff he stepped into the hot water to ‘oblige his host’. He made quick work of sudsing up his body, spending far longer than required to soap up his lingering semi and balls. Enjoying the sensation a bit too much, he forced himself to stop before he got carried away and shot a load all over the shower walls. He rinsed and got his hair wet glaring daggers at the shampoo. He hated the fucking stuff, without the dirt and oil to hold it down his hair would dry unbearably floofy. But he assumed he’d just be sent straight back into the bathroom if he didn’t do this properly, so with a heavy sigh he grabbed the bottle and finished up.

Having taken possibly the longest shower of his life, that was still considerably short by traditional standards, he came sauntering back out into the main room running his fingers through his damp hair to untangle it. He quirked up his brow noticing his clothes had been moved, but he hardly cared. Even if they were gone somehow, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone home from a lay naked. Catching sight of Rick he put his arms out wide and turned on the spot, showing off his squeaky clean, pale, naked body. “Happy now?” He laughed “I can’t remember the last time I took two showers in one week.”

\---------------------------------------------------

Rick was lying flat out on the bed, sprawled, staring at the pipes that ran across the ceiling, his senses slowly adjusting to his high. He’d stripped down to a pair of tight black boxer briefs and placed all of his clothes in a plastic bag to dispose of later, knowing they’d be covered in the kid’s skin cells and hair follicles; a rich plethora of DNA evidence.

The music had stopped and he lay quietly listening to all the noises around him enjoying the the calm before the storm; the intermittent tick of the heating system, the constant hum of traffic below, the far off blare of cars horns in the distance and finally, most _importantly_ ; the sound of boy’s soft naked feet slowly padding across the floor towards him.

 _“Ecstatic.”_ He replied with a sly grin directed at the roof and then towards the boy as he turned his head to look at him. “ _Mmmm…”_ the growl of appreciation that rumbled in his chest was entirely natural, now naked he could tell that the boy’s proportions exactly matched his own. The only thing which really distinguished them was the kid’s youth, slight undernourishment and bruises; it made him want to feed him up so that they could become truly identical in build. Swiftly he shook his head in an attempt to banish the thought, it was an entirely unwelcome one considering what he had intended for the boy over the next few hours; after tonight he’d never see him again, _no one would_.

Rick stretched out languidly like a cat his arms spread wide across the entirety of the bed as he raised his head to flash the kid a _look_ , a brief, bold and unmistakable one that whispered of dire need and beckoned him onto the bed.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Once finished with his pirouette, the musician took a moment to appreciate Rick stretched across the bed like a private banquet. He mimicked the man’s humming growl almost in time, before licking his lips hungrily. Fuck he couldn’t wait to have his hands and his mouth all over him. He stood rooted to the spot for some reason however, his brain couldn’t seem to decide if he should move and he waited for further instruction. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy and his weight seemed to have doubled. It was like he was higher than he’d ever been and he started to suspect the man had laced the joint. 

He wanted to collapse into a pool of sensation, to touch and to feel. Kiss and be kissed, suck and be sucked. At 19 he’d been with more than a fair share of partners, but mainly girls and the handful or so of boys he’d been with had mainly wanted an exchange of sloppy blowjobs. He’d had sex with a couple spineless businessmen, but they’d let him mount them and leave them with half their stuff. Incredibly one sided and dull. This prospect was entirely different. As he looked over the man lying in front of him he realized properly for the first time the guy had to be several years older than he was, but otherwise was built incredibly similar to the musician. He’d always had a bizarre attraction to himself and if this didn’t just suit that perfectly. Those boxers were snug in all the right places and a real delight, he wished he could see the man’s ass all snug inside the black cotton. 

A look was all it took to bring his attention snapping back into focus. All it took for him to go weak in the knee as arousal and nerves plummeted into his gut so fast it made him light headed. A low moan escaped him before he could stop it and his heart rate quickened, all from a look. He took a deep breath then closed his eyes briefly, before slowly crawling onto the bed. Trying to steady and collect himself. He needed to not get lost here, he needed to perform his best show yet. He needed to prove himself a worthy bed companion, because although the guy had hardly touched him, the rocker already knew he wanted to come back. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

As the boy started to crawl onto the bed, Rick leaned forward to grasp a fistful of the kid’s hair and literally drag him up to lie on top of him. He wanted to feel the curvature of the boy against him, the perfect length of him, his mouth only inches from his own, his cold chest warned against the boy’s freshly bathed one, their slim legs already entangled, feet stroking against each other as the boy’s burgeoning erection pressing tightly against his own. It was like the musician had been  _made_  for him, a perfect match that seemed to slide against him and snap into place. He couldn’t help but wonder if the kid would fit this perfectly around his cock, just thinking about forcing himself into that slick sleeve of muscle was making his head spin; he needed to hear this one  _beg_ , not just for his life, but also to be  _fucked._  The kid was an animal and by the end of the night Rick intended to tame him.

Wrapping his arms around the boy he danced his fingers up and down the kid’s spine, pushing against the protruding bones, one by one until he reached the small of the boy’s back and slipped further. Taking a firm handful of the boy’s rear he briefly ran the tip of his index finger between the kid’s soft firm cheeks, gently caressing his entrance. Was the boy trembling….already? God he hoped so, fuck, he hadn’t even cut him yet, mmm…he  _loved_  that. He resumed his tense squeezing grip on the boy’s rear, using it to pull the kid up him, forcing him into a hungry, shamefully commanding kiss.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Ahhh!” he all but yelped at the sudden and unexpected yank to his hair. Fuck the man had a sturdy grip and, it seemed, liked to play rough. Something the musician didn’t have a lot of experience with, beyond throwing some pretty young thing on a bed and slapping her around a little, and he definitely had never been on the receiving end of such treatments. He found the prospect excited him, though he worried it might aggravated his anger control problem, but he’d deal with that if it happened. 

He moved along with the manhandling as best he could, to avoid any further tearing at his scalp and came to lay on top of the gorgeous man. At this angle, this close, the rocker only wanted him more, something he was amazed kept increasing. He couldn’t help but to rut up against the other, biting his lip and tracing his foot up and down Rick’s shin. Fuck this anticipation was going to kill him, he both loved and hated it as his mind wandered to visions on flipping the man over and just taking what he wanted. 

He was brought out of his retrieve by the fingers tracing down his spine. He shuddered and arched at the touch, hands curling into grab fistfuls of the sheets as he continued to rut against the man under him. He tensed completely with an instantaneous shift to trepidation at the finger lightly grazing his entrance though. He instinctively pulled away as his heart started thundering in his ears and he felt his cheeks blush at the thought. No one had ever taken him in that way and the idea that this man might try sent the butterflies in his stomach into full on panic as he was pulled into a kiss. Everything about this situation was thrilling and terrifying at the same time, a sensation that was hopelessly addictive.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Breaking the kiss he tightened his grip around the boy and rolled them both over so that he was now on top, crushing the kid under his heavier body weight, pressing his chest hard against the other to watch him react. 

Shifting his hands down his own body he slipped off his boxers and kicked them off with a smirk before bowing his head to lick a warm wet trail down the boy’s skinny torso, biting softly against the small amount of loose flesh he found around the kid’s slim downy stomach. As he worked his way back up, he paused to swirl his tongue around the boy’s pierced nipples enjoying the sensation of the cold molded steel in his mouth, mmm… he might rip these out with his teeth later.

Continuing to work his way back up to the kid’s neck with deep sucking kisses he breathed against the boy’s throat releasing an aroused sigh of satisfaction as he scraped his fingers up the boy’s arms encouraging him to stretch them up and rest his wrists just above his head. As he sucked deep aching purple bruises into the kid’s throat and across his collar bone, keeping him pinned underneath him, his hands, which had been tangled in the boys hair, shifted to feel the steel cuffs behind the bed that were drilled into the brickwork.

Withdrawing his lips from the boy’s now brightly pattered throat, ripe with fresh contusions he raised his head to look at him, a hungry glare present in his dark hazel eyes as he, in one swift fluid motion, slid two metal circles around the kid’s wrists and tightly clicked them shut. Before the boy could protest he forced him into another kiss, a biting one, tearing gently at his bottom lips and plunging his tongue down the kid’s throat like he owned it. 

\-------------------------------------------------

The rocker landed on his back with an ‘oofff’ of air puffing out from his lungs. Immediately his arms curled around Rick’s body to dig his nails into his back briefly before the man pulled away to rid himself of his boxers. The rocker’s breath hitched at the sight of his now naked companion and his head rolled back as his chest arched upwards into the presence of the man’s mouth on his skin. Huffing moans came out of him in response to every bite and nip until the other found his nipple rings and a forceful “fuck” broke through and he lifted his head to watch the man work his tongue. 

When Rick had made his way fully up to the rocker’s neck, the boy closed his eyes and surrendered to the feelings coursing through his drug addled body. His head was spinning and his limbs felt like limp noodles, so were easily guided without resistance or fight into the position the other man wanted. Fully engrossed on the man’s mouth sucking at his throat, his exhales were coming as breathy moaning huffs and he was completely oblivious to the man’s intent. Whatever was in his system had him completely focused on the pleasurable feelings, utterly relaxed in the face of such eminent danger. His hips found a steady bucking rhythm, forcing his erection up to rut against Rick’s leg. 

He lay there a pool of desire and arousal, an over stimulated grin on his flushed face as Rick withdrew from his neck. He hummed deeply in his chest in appreciation and licked his lips, desperately wanting to taste the man’s flesh in return.  His deep blue eyes shot open snapping to the eyes of his now captor when he felt the cuffs clink shut around his wrists. His brow furrowed into a surprised what-the-fuck expression and he tugged at his restaurants. “Oi!” was all he could get out before his protests were swallowed into a heated kiss. Still he pulled and yanked at the restraints as his mouth movements were dictated for him and he all but choked on the force of man’s tongue down his throat. Protesting moans were sent into the other’s mouth as he fought the kiss and his restraint. His shoulders and torso pulled up and shifted back and forth with the efforts of his tugging. A slight panic blossomed in his chest as his fight slowed down when realized the bonds were going to hold, the slight tingle of fear only heightened his arousal. He succumbed to the kiss and relaxed back against the bed, once again moaning pleasurably into the man’s mouth. He was utterly at this man’s mercy and hopelessly clinging to any attention the man gave him. Fuck, what had he wandered into. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Every one of the boys he had bound to his bed and later laid to rest in body bags had given him a different expression at the point of being restrained, he’d seen it all; fear, relief, surprise, anger, indifference. The kid below him was definitely outraged and he immediately began to suspect that the boy did not regularly experiment with bondage. The musician was undoubtedly the youngest he’d brought back here, probably just over the border of eighteen, nineteen maybe at a push, he hadn’t asked, he didn’t need to, he didn’t  _care_.

The instant reaction of the boy was thrilling to him, to feel him curl and kick under him as he pulled at the handcuffs in a fruitless attempt to shake himself loose from them. To hear and feel the kid’s muffled angry protests groaned so deeply into his mouth was intense and he continued to kiss them undone, quieting him, claiming his mouth in a violent oral altercation that could barely be considered a kiss at this point. Even if the kid decided to bite him in retaliation, he would continue regardless until he’d had his fill; he had the scars to  _prove_  it.

Slowly the kid’s breathing was starting to even out and he could tell that although the boy had nearly found himself on the precipice of full blown panic he was now starting to edge himself back from it. Only when the boy finally started to soften the kiss, melting into it did he finally break it dispassionately and move off the bed.

He stood at the edge of it and let his eyes rake over every exposed inch of the boy’s smooth pale skin as he lit a cigarette, not bothering to hide the massive erection that had risen between his legs, caused by the sights, sounds and tastes of the boy’s earlier distress.

 _“Are you going to behave for me?”_  He asked with an air of menace, turning the boy’s Zippo lighter over in his hand.

\--------------------------------------------------------

A gasp of disapproval, followed by a short moan came from the rocker at the loss of the kiss. He groaned and shifted his hips, sliding his ass side to side slightly with his eagerness to be touched. He resumed tugging at his restraints, he kept the chains taut and pulled to their maximum length. If he continued the cuffs would certainly start to cut into his skin, he shifted his wrist within them to be able to grab the chains with his hands for something to hold onto. He wasn’t writhing, his arms were still, bent at his elbows to keep the sensation of being restrained in focus. He was trapped and he kinda liked it. 

He looked down his pale body, past his demanding erection, at Rick standing at the end of the bed. There was a palpable tension in the room, a curious sense of unknown dread filled the musician and he found himself pushing up with his heels to prop his body off the bed, then released to roughly flop back to the bed with a huff. There was no way out of this, no way to change his position or to do anything with himself but lay there and wait. His mind keep reminding him of the other man’s touch around his entrance and he had to focus not to shake with the nervous anticipation over Rick taking him in that way. He felt sure, now that he was tied down, that’s what the man had planned, and as attracted to him as he was, he wasn’t sure if he wanted this random person to do that. He’d always imagined it to be given, not taken and in a much more significant set of circumstances then the ones he’d currently found himself in. 

“Behave?” He sneered, not bothering to keep the cocky laugh out of his voice “Baby I’ve never behaved for anyone in my life, why the fuck would I do so now?” He boasted much more confidently than he felt. He twisted his shoulders, somewhat painfully, against his restraints to allow himself to lift his torso up from the bed to better glare at his captor. Gaze equal parts frustration and arousal, he looked the other up and down, eyes lingering on the man’s frankly massive erection. He smirked at the sight and looked back at Rick’s face “I have no reason to listen to you, chained up or not.” In truth he was somewhat terrified at the prospect of being fucked, he felt sure the man wasn’t going to be gentle, he had no idea why he mouth was choosing to be so defiant. 

\-----------------------------------------------

 _“I was hoping you’d say that.”_  He replied flatly moving a step closer and grabbing the boy’s foot, running his thumb across the delicate sole, pushing into the muscle, almost experimentally before dropping it.  _“Defiant little thing aren’t you?”_  He still hadn’t got the full measure of this kid, but he felt assured  _that_  time would eventually come; people always fully revealed themselves when they were facing the end of all things.

Moving to the corner of the room he removed his camera from one of the drawers and shifted back to the foot of the bed to run off a series of polaroids; a succession of disgraceful photos falling to the floor, ready to develop in the atmosphere. He always liked to document his kills in three states, before, during and  _after_. He kept the collection in a secure burn box in the roof, digital files were too risky and he could hardly take these anywhere to be developed. This boy was already his favourite and he wanted to capture as much of him as possible, they were so alike that he almost felt like he had some part of himself tied down to the bed waiting to be  _taken_. 

Placing down the camera on the night stand, out of the kid’s reach, he slipped back onto the bed and forced his knee down onto one of the kid’s legs to hold it in place, pressed painfully into the mattress. Stretching his arm over he snatched the kid’s skinny ankle to drag his leg towards him and hold the limb straight and still as he began to extinguish his cigarette against the soft skin on the underside of boy’s foot. “ _Don’t call me baby.”_  He chastised watching as the burning orange embers faded to black. Flicking the extinguished cigarette away, staying far enough back to avoid a kick to the face, he blew on the wound to remove the ash and then jabbed his thumb into it, simultaneously bowing his head to spit vehemently onto the boy’s cock with some force before licking a long wet swathe up the boy’s sets of frenum piercings, enjoying the taste of tension sweat and cold hard metal. Still digging his thumb into the kid’s burn, he began working his mouth back up in painfully low increments, finally swirling his tongue around the swollen head before moving off of the kid entirely, having not yet taken the boy fully into his throat. The musician would soon realise that if he wanted to be  _given_  pleasure he would have to _take_  pain, more and _more_  of it.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The rocker twitched and jumped slightly at the man’s touch then scowled, cross with his body’s reactions. He had no intentions of revealing the mounting anxiety he was feeling, he took a deep breath to try and calm himself. His body was fighting him however and refused to comply, so when Rick dropped his foot he instinctively pulled it inward, bending his knee out to the side to tuck the foot under his other leg. He lay there silently trying to steady himself, internally focused when the other moved away and returned, the shutter sounds brought him out of his thoughts. 

His brow popped up, this was unexpected. He didn’t know how to react to having his pictures taken in this context, normally he’d pose and flaunt himself at the camera, but he could hardly move chained to the bed and he was still so uncertain of the turns this evening kept taking he actually found himself doing quite the opposite. He felt his blush deepen and he turned his head, trying to hide it beneath his arm and shifted his thighs to close his legs, the rolled his hips trying to shield himself from the photography. Typically he didn’t mind a camera in the slightest, but something about this man had him on edge, feeling exposed and his body kept twisting awkwardly in response to the discomfort. Laying there as the camera’s capturing frame after frame of his rare embarrassment for the man to keep for later viewing only made it worse. 

He flinched again when Rick came back onto the bed before sighing an aggravated sound at his body’s betrayal. His anger was starting to mount over how much it defied him. Something that made him reckless and unpredictable, but also gave him a boldness and strength he had found quite advantageous. He tried to latch onto the feelings of aggression deciding he’s much rather be angry than this writhing ball of blushing embarrassment. His best laid intentions were quickly banished however when the other man pinned him down further and made to grab his ankle. He jerked it away several times, but being three-quarters restrained he wasn’t able to evade the man’s grasp for long. His muscles further spasmed in response to the man’s surprisingly cold fingers closing around his flushed flesh. He fruitlessly pulled and tugged against the man’s movements, if he didn’t have any choice but to comply he at least wise wasn’t going to make it easy for the guy.

Rick it seemed was well practiced at being dominator though and as much as he hated to admit it, the man was stronger than he was too. It didn’t take much effort for the other man to force him into a position of compliance and stillness. His eyes were locked with the ones of his captor, chest heaving with hesitation and tension over what was about to happen. “AHHHHHH FUCKiING BASTARD!!” he completely screamed at the incredible level of pain from such a small burn. The underside of his foot was a sensitive area apparently. “Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck! ” he kept chanting as the pain waved up his leg and throughout his body. Whatever drug was in his system seemed to accentuate the feeling and make it linger throughout him far more intensely than he though it should. His efforts to free his leg renewed and he bent and straightened his knee over and over, bucking his leg in the man’s hand trying to get his foot to make contact with the man’s face.  

A fresh round of curses was hastily sucked back in with a sharp hiss at the sudden attention to his cock combined with pressure over his burn. This wave of sensation was entirely different and unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The pain mingled with the intense pleasure reactions from attention to his neglected erection was instantly addicting. His back arched up at the sensation and his thigh muscles tightened and he held his breath as the other’s tongue ran over him. His mouth fell open as he lifted his head to look down at the source of this incredible feeling. “Fuck..” he whispered out, breathing far more heavy than really warranted. The swirl of the man’s tongue over his head was too strong and made his entire body collapse slack against the bed a deep moaning exhale escaping him. He stared at the ceiling, foot and cock burning for entirely different reasons, thinking that may have been the best combinations of sensation he’d ever experienced. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 _“Shout as loud as you want kid, no one can hear you, these walls are as thick as any bomb shelter.”_ He slapped his hand against the cold slabs of concrete which encased the apartment on all sides as if to further emphasise the point. He didn’t want to shield the boy’s screams with music, _no_ , he wanted to savour them, every anguished cry, sorrowed sigh, and guilty groan would be listened to attentively and _appreciated_. The boy had probably sung for hundreds of people by now, but no one would ever listen to him as intently as Rick would tonight.

Walking over to his book shelf Rick once again retrieved the hollowed out hardback from the collection and snorted a large line of cocaine from its interior. As it dripped down his throat tasting faintly caustic, tingling and metallic he licked his lips and breathed deeply feeling the renewed high thundering through his system to become one with his blood stream.

Strolling over to one of his drawers he pulled it out and examined the contents….spoiled for choice it seemed, he had no idea what to choose next. This boy of course was far more pierced than any of the others and that fact alone suddenly made his set of pincer pliers look incredibly alluring. Picking them up his hand hoovered over his switchblade, for once the knife looked too dull and thick for his purpose; the kid was beautiful, he craved precision; he selected a scalpel instead and of course a bottle of lubrication.

Wondering over to the bed he placed the items on the nightstand beside his Polaroid camera ensuing the kid got a good look at them in his grasp, before laying them down.

Crawling onto the bed he stretched out beside the kid, nuzzling his nose against the boy’s restrained arm, taking in a deep breath of his scent while absentmindedly playing with his hair as he waited for his high to settle down and allow him to continue. The sudden tenderness completely contradicted the intended violence of the objects the boy had just witnessed him carry over.

 _“I can’t wait to fuck you.”_ He said quietly, almost to himself, his eyes closed in concentration as he slid his hand across the boy’s chest to play with his nipple piercing, _yes_ , he’d rip this one out _first_.

\-------------------------------------------------------

The musician hadn’t been shouting to get anyone’s attention, he was just loud and that fucking hurt. But the comment about none being able to hear him was ominous indeed and only deepened the pit of dread in his gut. He was no fool, even at 19, and he knew that meant the man only intended more. He kept hissing in his breaths as the burn pain flared and subsided, he wanted very badly to be able to cradle his foot and rub at the spot. Or even better, kick the other man in the jaw with it.

He lifted his head once again to watch his captor move across the room, huffing a breath out of his nose when he watched the man hog some drugs to himself. Least the fucker could do was share if he was intending to do …well whatever he was intending. He huffed again realizing he also could use a drink, and was likely to get nothing any time soon. He plopped his head and shoulders back onto the bed. He was already starting to hate the single blemish on the ceiling he’d found and the color of the pipes.

Everything clenched when Rick returned into his eye sight holding a horrific set of items in his hand. What the actual fuck? Jesus Christ he hoped they were only for show, to set him more on edge. It definitely worked, his heart was racing and he was sweating anxiously now. The scalpel was menacing, but not so much so as the pliers, his mind raced with what the hell the man could possibly use them. He shuddered at the thoughts.

Still the situation managed to excite him, it was a terrified excitement, but not a wholly unwelcomed one. He felt more alive laying here restrained on the bed than he had in recent memory and the prospect of more simultaneous pain and pleasure was very enticing. He’d been in way more than his share of fights, and even when beaten to a pulp he kept coming back for more until he’d win or get knocked out, so he knew he could take pain. But punches were one thing, shiny instruments were a large unknown.

When Rick came back onto the bed the rocker recoiled despite his excitement. He pulled away and scooted his body in reflex, not really being able to move very far. He then quickly snapped his head away from the man’s approach, squinting his eyes shut expecting to be bitten or some feeling equally as sharp. So when the surprise of a almost tender nuzzle came instead his eyes rolled open and he softened into the touch. He breathed deeply as the man’s scent washed over him and filled his dazed senses. Fuck this was proving to be quite the rollercoaster, he was suddenly all warm and wanted to nuzzle the man back and cover his body with kisses. It all snapped away again in an instant when Rick spoke. “F-f-fuck me?” the quivering question was out before he could stop it. Shit. He did intend to do that then.

His thighs once again clenched tight, as did his ass cheeks, a combinations which practically raised him off the bed. The look that crossed his face as his eyes searched Rick’s, made it obvious he was hesitant and uncomfortable at the thought in the best of circumstance, downright terrified over it now. He was so consumed with the prospect he hardly noticed his nipple ring being played with, a full blown panic had settled over him as his mind tried to prepare him for an entirely unknown experience.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Now _that_ was unexpected; the boy had flinched, physically recoiled at the idea, while at the same time he could hear hallmarks of the boy’s continued arousal, what a strange contradiction in behaviour…a small grin peaked at the corner of Rick’s scarred mouth….unless…. He raised his head to gaze at the kid, studying his expression with a look of intense scrutiny as he raised up onto his haunches and edged himself down the bed. His eyes locked with the boy’s as he slipped his hand between his skinny thighs and gently teased a fingertip around his entrance…..and there it was, _that_ look….that flinch….. _again._

Parting the boy’s legs he slipped his body between them, his arms folded over the kid’s chest, his semi pressed up against the kid’s thigh, as he lay in silence simply staring at him as if he was looking at him for the first time all over again.

Of course it would be obvious the minute he decided to enter him, but he didn’t want to wait until then, _no_ , he wanted to know _now_. Reaching for the pliers he flicked the boy’s nipple with a sinister grin before locking the barbell running through it between the thick serrated teeth of the tool, twisting it very gently at first. _“How many men have you fucked?”_ He asked, twisting the handle a little further but not yet breaking the skin as his other hand drifted down the kid’s stomach to softly knead and stroke his balls.

\------------------------------------------------------

He was a mess, both wanting and not wanting everything the man did was a curious sensation indeed for the young man. When Rick lifted his head the rocker both did and didn’t like the look he gave him. Like he’d just now noticed he was there when he realized how hungry he was. Jesus he wished his mind could decide if he was enjoying this predicament or not. 

His legs were clenched so tightly he was amazed the other man had been able to force his hand in between them. He took a deep sobering breath, hoping the man’s mouth would come lick at his cock again, but just jumped again when his hole was teased again. He only offered mild resistance to Rick parting his legs, he’d relax and let them open, then squeeze shut, then relax again until finally the other man had managed to get himself between them. Satisfied for the moment he wasn’t about to be instantly violated when Rick settled over him he stretched his legs out straight and let them rest on the bed. 

Fuck why did the guy have to be so gorgeous, the rocker wanted to run his hands through the slightly older man’s hair, a thought that brought out a fresh attempt to tug out of his bonds. He held his arms out, keeping the restraints taut once again as the pliers found his piercing. Oh fuck, in all his wild ideas he hadn’t even thought about this option. The impending threat as his nipple was twisted along with the metal brought a tremor to his voice he hated “Uh.. um I-I don’t know.. know exactly..” he bit his lip trying to get his brain to function through the intensity and the drug in his system, eyes never leaving the pliers “F-four.. m-maybe f-f-five” he was exaggerating, he’d fucked only two and one he couldn’t remember so it hardly counted. Being distracted by the threat to his nipple he couldn’t even lie well. “It.. it’s, it was mainly.. I’ve given head to lot’s more guys though” he added trying to make up for how inexperienced he’d made himself sound. 

\----------------------------------------------

Rick smiled as he heard the little quiver in the boy’s voice, he hadn’t expected this at all, it was a  _gift._ The musician had looked so rough and ready, bruised filthy and aggressive when he’d first set eyes on him that admittedly Rick had initially imagined the kid fucked a different boy every night and was most probably into self-harm of some form. He was so convinced of it that he’d been internally wrestling all night over whether to use protection, but now that he had heard that hesitant stutter and seen those flushed embarrassed cheeks, the decision had been made for him; the kid was far more chaste than he’d originally expected and Rick, as much as he acknowledged the risks, rarely ever used protection.

Four or five, well that meant one or two and as for his pain tolerance, well they were yet to measure that.  _Fuck_ , it was almost  _cute_ , it made him want to kiss him again to feel him shiver and shake, but he decided to wait until his mouth was full of the boy’s warm blood before doing that again.

 _“….and how many have fucked you?”_  He asked flatly, already suspecting the answer but eager for the boy to confirm it, to speak it to him like a dirty secret they now shared. To know the boy’s virginal little asshole was spread under him right now, to know  _that_ , fuck, the thought of it alone was nearly enough to make him abandon the pliers altogether and drive in up to the hilt immediately without a moment’s notice. Christ, with the boy’s apprehension and clearly demonstrated fear it was practically tantamount to  _rape_. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself and will the urgent thought away from his mind, already noticing that just  _thinking_  about it had made him incredibly hard. 

Sliding his hand up he gripped the boy’s shaft and slowly started to ease his hand back and forth while studying the boy’s expression and slowly twisting the pliers. He stopped as he reached a full 360 degree angle of twisted breaking skin and painfully held the piercing there readying himself to rip it out entirely.  _“Well?”_

\-------------------------------------------------

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He’d bedded more than a dozen girls already, he wasn’t some virgin, but this man hardly seemed interested in that. His eyes only closed tighter at the question, before he realized that gave him away and he quickly relaxed them. What the fuck, it was a simple enough question but the rocker just felt like the guy was playing with him. He debated how many to say, and mentally prepared himself to project the lie with more confidence to not make it so blatantly obvious. 

“Mmmmm” the humming moan was a stall for time, he could feel the heat of the man’s cock laying against him, he could feel it growing, hardening. It was terribly exciting he wanted it shoved down his throat, but that was it. Nowhere else… or did he? Fuck he didn’t know, his brain was all over the place. Oh shit right he was supposed to be answering his captor, he remembered when his cock was grabbed, his body lifted up into Rick’s in response to the sensation and he hummed deeply as he got lost in the feeling. “None, no one.” He heard himself say clear as day, calm and confidently, full of arousal at the man’s touch. Jesus Christ that wasn’t what he had planned to say, he was starting to feel like two people trapped in one body. The shock of his confession made him tremble and open his eyes to check of Rick’s expression. Maybe the truth would make the man go easy on him, or even let him go, though he very much doubted it. 

\-----------------------------------------------

He waited in silence, examining the boy’s expression unsure whether he was about to receive the truth or a bare face lie.

No one.

The words, their blunt confirmation excited him far more than he expected it to, he had no idea why, the boy was no blushing virgin, that much was clear, but it wasn’t about  _that_ , Rick wasn’t enticed by inexperience, he never had been, it was something _else_. Feeling the boy buck up into his hand as he continued to stroke him, his thoughts were finally pulled into sharper focus providing fuller clarity; he was excited by the fact the act would shock the boy both physically and mentally of course but more importantly, he would be the boy’s  _first_ , his first and his last, his _only._

He glanced down at the kid’s partially devastated nipple and smiled widely; an unwholesome smile, sharp and predatory with too many teeth. Suddenly his arm started to jerk the boy at an incredible pace as if he were trying to make the kid desperately climax all over himself, but it was a brief indulgence, one intended only to last as long as the intense pain the kid was about to endure.

Gripping the pliers around the delicate mound of skin he twisted up and out wrenching the barbell straight out of the boy’s nipple with a spray of blood instantly carving the flesh in half. Immediately bruised the ripped flaps of skin wobbled for a moment before swelling red with thick blood which started to spill down the kid’s pale chest. Throwing the tool onto the table Rick rushed at the wound with his mouth to swirl his tongue around the ragged painfully severed flesh and sup a good amount of blood. Once satisfied he had a decent mouthful, he dropped the boys cock and descended upon him; using his hands to pull at the boy’s jaw he locked him into a kiss equally as violent and fierce as the last, moaning deeply into the musicians’ beautiful mouth as he drenched the kid’s throat with a brutal burst of his own bright blood

\--------------------------------------------------------

The shock over his confession brought him out of the euphoria of pleasure mixed with pain and he felt only the ache, hissing as he looked at what the other man was doing to his nipple “God! What the fuck man..” he complained as the skin started to burn and he pulled again at his restraints with the reflex to want to swat the man’s hand away. 

The look that slowly consumed Rick face was ghastly. The smile was cold and wicked and entirely void of anything pleasant and made his skin crawl. He braced himself as best he could having zero clue what that look meant, but knowing it wasn’t anything good. Yet then his cock was being spectacularly yanked, at a brutal pace and he was distracted from the menacing expression. His eyes rolled back and slid shut “Ooohh fuuck..” he moaned deep in his chest and propped his hips up off of the bed with his heels. With his eyes closed and the repeated moans coming from him, the rocker was oblivious to the renewed efforts of the man at his nipple until it was too late.

The scream that tore out of him was possibly one of the loudest sounds to ever pass his lips. The violent tearing as the metal bar was ripped from his flesh was excruciating, he’d never felt anything like it. The stinging ripped up his spine and radiated across his entire chest then deep into his back as tears welled in his eyes. He wasn’t sobbing, it was simply a pain response and he didn’t even care. His breath became whines of agony just before Rick’s mouth found the wound. 

He hissed again “Aahhh!! Fuck!!” The stars were beginning to clear from the initial shock of the brutal sensation and his legs clenched up around the other man to ground himself. Fuck, he couldn’t think of anything except the pain in his chest. The saliva on the man’s tongue stung, yet the additional tingling the swirling movements created were somehow delightful. He managed to force his eyes open and look at his attacker, face quickly coated in the musicians blood and completely lost in the act he’d just committed. “Fuck” the breathy moan escaped him before he realized what it meant. The sight of the man lusting after the damage he’d just caused the rocker was incredibly sexy, a thought that disturbed him and only served to renew his earlier discomfort and embarrassment. The man had savagely wounded him, after chaining him up and, he was starting to think, drugging him with the unspoken promise of additional violation, yet for some reason the boy was turned on by it all. 

As quickly as he had the thought, he lost it when Rick forced a demanding cruel kiss upon him. He resisted and fought the man’s movements, completely appalled at the taste of his own blood and the quantity of it. He tried to swallow but his body resisted and he coughed, sputtered and whined into Rick’s mouth. His arms flailing at the chains desperate to be able to push the man off of him, he did the next best thing he could and brought his knee up jarring into the man’s side, forcing it underneath him and in between their bodies to try and pry Rick up off of him. It didn’t seem to work, but he gave it all his effort as he twisted his head and any part of his body he could to try and get out of the desecrating kiss. 

\---------------------------------------------------

The kid was practically thrashing underneath him in his desperate and impotent attempts to tear them apart and the harder the boy  _pushed_  the harder Rick  _pulled,_ only further proving that he was definitely the stronger of the two. Truthfully he was finding that the more the boy tried to resist him, the larger the ache to have him grew, peaking when he felt the kid’s knee jab into his side. Only when he had finally decanted the last of the blood from his mouth straight down the boy’s protesting throat did he finally stop. Drawing back from him, some blood still frothing down his chin, to spatter across his chest, he moved his hand to grip at the boy’s leg, the one the kid had tried to lever him off, digging his fingertips into the skin until his hand ached issuing a clear and direct warning that he had not approved the insolent manoeuvre.

Rising from the bed he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and discarded a splatter of blood onto the floor with a languid flick of his wrist before heading back over to the chest of drawers in the corner. When he returned he was carrying a syringe and flicking out the air bubbles quite obviously preparing it for use.

 _“Just a little something to relax you.”_  He assured the boy, flashing him a wild bloodstained smile.  _“Something to make you a little less…..kicky.”_  Grabbing for the boy’s leg, it was instantly torn away from him and he was forced to snatch at it several times before he could get a good grip, the act only further reinforcing that was he was about to do was entirely necessary. Tying down the boy’s legs would be an utter inconvenience, after all, he wanted them over his shoulders eventually. Stabbing the syringe into the boy’s soft thigh he pressed down the plunger administering half the contents of the chamber. Dropping the limb he fought to grab the other and once he had it he administered a similar dose. Having finished, he walked over to a bookshelf, placed the syringe down carefully and examined his watch, clearly timing the expected reaction.  

From his drawer he retrieved the pen knife he had liberated from the kid’s jacket, unfolding the blade from the handle before bringing it up to eye level to examine it; definitely sharp enough. Approaching the end of the bed he grabbed the boy’s leg again, this time managing to lock his slim fingers around it first time, a tell-tale sign that the chemical had already started to work.

 _“A derivative of Dantrolene…”_  He announced, placing the pen knife against the boy’s inner thigh _. “A muscle relaxant of sorts, one that works directly on the tissue and not the nervous system.”_  It meant the boy’s leg muscles would be fairly unresponsive while his pain receptors would be entirely intact, rather than explain this, he felt a demonstration would be far more effective. Pressing the blade against the boy’s inner thigh he brought it downwards in a curve, cutting through the skin like warm butter, watching as it lipped open to reveal the raw red tissue underneath. Within a second the curvature of the wound was completely obscured by thick blood which poured out of the cut straight onto the bed spread. Immediately Rick climbed back onto the bed, crawling up the boy, drinking in his distress with wide aroused eyes. “ _How does it feel?”_  He hissed as he slipped his hard cock into his hand and dragged it across the boy’s freshly bloodied affliction, poking the thick head into the ragged gash to explore and expand it as if it was a welcomingly moist cunt.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

He vehemently spat out the last of his own blood as soon as the kiss was ended. Sputtering and trying to wipe his tongue and chin across his arm, various disgusted sounds coming from him, he hissed at the strong grip to his leg that clearly told him he’d made a mistake trying to pry the man off him. 

The rocker watched Rick move about the room with apprehension, still coughing on the taste of blood stuck in his throat and moaning in pain from the burning stinging coming from his chest. At the sight of the syringe his entire body moved up the bed as he used his restraints as leverage to pull away “What the fuck is that?!” he hoarsely asked, clear tone of terror in his voice. The answer to which did nothing to calm him. Great, all hope of a swift kick to the head to incapacitate the man was soon to be gone. Not that he’d quite figured out what he was going to do after that step anyway. 

He felt an odd warmth radiating out from the puncture point where the drug had been plunged into his thighs, it wasn’t a numbing sensation. In fact he it seemed he still had full feeling, his legs just felt incredibly heavy. He tested and tried to move one, with enough force that should have raised his leg clear from the bed but only served to pop his ankle an inch or two from the mattress. He was distracted by his efforts and didn’t see what Rick was retrieving until he returned to his side. He rolled his eyes and groaned. Oh that’s great, like he gave a damn what the shit was called in the face of a knife to the thigh. 

Unable to fight, or squirm he had no choice but to lay there and brace himself as best he could for what was likely to be no paper cut. At the first depression, as his skin popped around the tip of the blade he knew he was right and he maintained full feeling in his legs. His yell of anguish filled the room for the duration of the cutting and grew incrementally louder and more agonizing as the blade inched further down his thigh. Tears broke free of his tightly clenched eyelids and ran down his cheeks to turn red in the blood on his chin. It felt like the asshole got deeper as he went too. Fuck. 

His eyes fluttered and his face was screwed up trying to focus through the overwhelming pain as Rick climbed onto the bed with him. Fuck he couldn’t even think or protest, there was only throbbing discomfort. Quite on their own accord his muscles started convulsing and spasming in pain response, his system was in shock. A look of revulsion crossed his face as he felt the other man push his erection across and into the devastated flesh of his wound. He cursed and snapped at the fresh shoots of pain it elicited, skin crawling from the gushing sounds the movements of Rick’s cock made as it routed around inside his thigh tissue. He had trouble speaking around gasping for breath and the intense jolts of pain “Ahh fuck.. oh it feels fucking won.. wonderful you fucking fuck.. real … ahhh!… goddamned fucking massage you’ve given.. given me …SHIT!” 

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He was enjoying the look of disgust on the boy’s face as he edged himself deeper into the wound realising that unless he cut further his cock was dug as deep into the bloody trench as it would go. The kid’s sarcasm caused a smile to twitch at the corner of his mouth and in response he licked and kissed the boy’s stomach much like a lover before arching up to coast his gore encrusted erection across the boy’s cock, glazing it in the boy’s own blood. The kid’s visible outrage and obvious repugnance pleased him, not only because he enjoyed the discomfort of others but moreover because he suspected he could change that expression in a matter of seconds.

 _“Shhhh…..”_ he cooed, slowly settling himself between the kid’s legs before gathering a thick slick of the musician’s blood into his palm to smear it all over the boy’s cock, coating it in glistening vibrant red. Bowing his head he slipped his lips over the head of the kid’s drenched length, revelling in the salty copper tang of it as he plunged it deep down into the warm depths of his throat. He held it there for a moment, staring at the boy, forcing him to hold his steely stare before gradually rising back up, maintaining the same intensity of eye contact. Flashing the kid a vulgar grin he wiped spit and vital fluids from his mouth before plummeting back down again, this time building up a steady and gradual rhythm, one which allowed him to maintain a fierce pressure. His eyes were closed in concentration as he continued, focused now on ensuring he stopped before the kid came down his throat. The feeling of the boy’s thick cock repeatedly smashing into the back of his throat was almost intoxicating and before he knew it he was pushing harder and faster than ever before, practically choking himself with it, utterly insatiable in his hunger. Gasping, he pulled himself off of it, a thick chain of spit dripping from his mouth to pool around the boy’s crotch. Immediately he coughed and laughed, a strange little laugh more at himself than anything else, _fuck_ , he was into this boy so much it was almost _dangerous_ , he would have to make the most of the few hours the boy had left. As the thought entered his head his palms grasped the boy’s ass cheeks and prized them apart just in time for another thick rope of spit to dribble from his mouth to land straight down between them.

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He was swallowing hard and frequently trying to rid himself of the taste of the blood, but the longer the coppery twang resided on his tongue the less offensive it felt. He didn’t know if it was simply because he had no other choice or not, but he was getting used to it and indeed almost starting to like it. His fists were clenched in his bonds and he was tense with pain infused anger. God if he could get his hands around the other’s throat he knew he wouldn’t stop squeezing until the man stopped breathing. 

Rick’s kisses and gentle soothing did nothing to calm him, in fact it only made him more annoyed to think the man thought he could be so easily palliated. He growled an angry, aroused sound in his chest as the other shifted down between his legs once again. He found he needed to keep his teeth and jaw tightly clamped shut to endure the torrents of pain running through him from his wounds. 

The clenched jaw turned into a full scowl as he watched Rick coat his cock with blood, his body further convulsed at the sordid act and his facial features pulled back into repulsion again. All of that awkward discomfort over the man’s apparent blood lust went flying out the window the second his crimson coated erection slid into Rick’s mouth and then throat. He gasped loudly, sucking in air as his was overwhelmed with the mingling of pain and pleasure once again. Fuck, the same incredibly delicious sensation as before tore through him, only this time much more intense. The increased pain from the more serious wound and the higher level of physical stimulation from the man’s epic mouth brought his budding new fetish to a new height. Fuck it was pulsing through him so demandingly and he could do nothing but moan and writhe with pleasure. He’d never been in more pain, yet he was so close to climax at the same time, his entire body was consumed by it. 

“w-w-woahh… f-f-fuckk me..” he gasped out when the man lifted his mouth releasing him into a soggy pool of body fluids. Only when the man grabbed his cheeks did he realize the connotation of what he’d just said and how the other man was likely to interpret it. He hadn’t meant it as the request the other was likely to take it as. His body clenched yet again at the thought in time for the spit to run along his hole. Oh fuck. That wasn’t in anyway what he meant. His heart rate somehow increased further and his breathing was incredible short and jumpy as he hit the highest level of tense anxiety he ever experienced over the thought of the man shoving his rather large cock into his virgin ass. “No… NO! I mean, meant … Oh fuck..”

\------------------------------------------------------------

 _“It doesn’t matter what you meant.”_  He replied softly, making it crystal clear that he intended to fuck the boy whether he welcomed it or not. Placing his large palms on the boy’s rear he raised it up, now at the perfect angle for his mouth. Grabbing two firm handfuls of the boy’s cheeks and squeezing agonisingly hard, he parted them and buried his face between them, pushing the boy’s upper back into the mattress as he traced the pointed tip of his tongue around and into the boy’s entrance, one hand forcing the kid’s flesh apart to allow him this deep access, the other raising him up off the mattress.

Pulling away with an audible ‘smack’ of skin and saliva, he ran his tongue up the boy’s frenum piercings then back down to grip the one at the base of his cock tightly with his teeth. He held it there for a moment, teasingly gnawing on it waiting until the right look registered on the kid’s face, the look that told him the kid knew exactly what was about to happen. Fear of pain was just as delicious as any pain he inflicted, sometimes  _more_  so. 

Taking a deep breath against the boy’s length he bit down on the two studs and tore his mouth away, viciously ripping the piercing from the skin. Instantly he sat straight up to savour the boy’s reaction and his defeating screams, a piece of ragged flesh and the metal piecing still hanging grotesquely from his mouth. Spitting them across the room he looked back down towards the boy’s pretty pink opening which was now beginning to fill with blood as it dripped down the boy’s brutalized cock and over his taut balls.

Pushing his fingers into the boy’s cheeks to bruise them as he prized them apart more fully, he took a deeper breath and buried his face again, this time eating out the boy like a man starved, slurping and sucking so noisily that the lewd desperately hungry sounds of it echoed around them both. Gasping for breath a thick slick of drool running down his face he wiped his chin and arched his back, fuck he was so  _hard_. Reaching over for the lubrication, he squeezed the bottle over the kid’s spit soaked, dripping wet entrance and teased his finger around it.  _“Fuck, that’s pretty…”_  He breathed pushing the slim digit in and curling it inside the boy before pulling it back out.  _“You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”_

\-----------------------------------------------------

With the drug in his system he was completely unable to fight and protest the man grabbing and lifting his ass. Damnit, he just had to fucking lay here and take it, it seemed, a realization that did nothing to sweeten the prospect. Once clear to him that Rick most definitely, fully intended on forcibly robbing him of his anal cherry, the rocker couldn’t stop staring at the man’s suddenly much larger looking cock whenever it came into view. Fuck, the thing was huge and he simply couldn’t fathom how it was going to fit inside of his body. 

Excited shivers and painful tremors kept running throughout his nervous system, his breathing was just starting to slow as he was becoming accustomed to his new level of pain, he adapted quickly it seemed, his pain tolerance proving to be his most valuable resource at the moment. Everything cringed and tensed back up when the man approached his ass with his tongue, yet in spite of his fears an intense wave of pleasure washed the tension away. He was absolutely in love with this man’s mouth, it was pure delight and he wanted it on his body forever. 

That was until the man’s teeth closed around his piercing. “Oh FUCK!”  his eyes shot back open and he head lifted from the bed, pleading, begging look across his face “No, no, no, no, no, no, come on not that one! No... please don’t..” he was sputtering and stammering out useless protests before taking a deep breath and sealing himself up for the inevitable. Fuck this was going to be the worst yet. He shut his eyes tight and grabbed onto the chains with both hands squeezing onto them for dear life. When it finally happened another equally horrific scream came tearing out of him to fill the room, this one quickly dissolving into whimpers that were almost sobs over the far more sensitive area being ravaged. 

He hardly noticed the man’s mouth returned to his body through his convulsions and cries. He wanted to retch, the contents of his stomach kept coming part way of his throat and the tears streaming down his face were beyond his control. His senses were all screwed up, he could hardly see from the pain and heard only ringing for what felt like forever. When things started to come back into focus he recognized the flip open of a bottlecap and his head jumped back off the mattress in time to watch to lube drip from the bottle to his body. “Oh Fuck !! No no… oh fuck ! oh fuck fuck.. no no.. fuck… “ he started a panicked chant, two clicks from hysteria as he lay there helpless to save himself and stop the coming violation. “Fuck no fuck fuck no “ came from his mouth faster and faster until he sounded to be speaking in tongues and he clenched shut tight yet bared down on the man’s finger as it was finally pressed into him. He hisses at the burning intrusion, which was so small in comparison to what he knew was coming, his legs started nervously trembling as his ‘oh fuck no’ chant continued and he started hoping he’d pass out from blood loss to not have to endure it all.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The boy’s face was glistening with the wet tracks of pain pledged tears which only served to compliment the frantic protests that were falling hard and fast from his lips and only increased in frequency when he slipped another finger into the kid to stretch him out. Admittedly Rick normally waited until his toys were in a much worse state than this before fucking them but he wanted this kid present and lucid for the entire experience. “ _Mmmm…..”_  a noise, more a growl than anything else rumbled deep in his chest and he moved his fingers in an out of the boy pushing past the knuckle as far as he could go.

 _“Just breathe….”_ He soothed with a greedy grin slipping his fingers out and smoothing his hand over the boy’s tense stomach before rising up onto his knees to circle the head of his cock around the boy’s pouting virginal little asshole. As he gently started to push the large fleshy head of his cock into the boy’s tiny tight entrance an involuntary shudder shocked through his body causing him to release a deep sigh, the sound of which coincided with a loud and urgent knock at his apartment door.

The interruption ripped him from the delicious moment and a furiously dark scowl instantly settled on his face.  _“Fuck!”_  Within mere seconds he had retrieved a ball gag from behind his pillow and forced the large black sphere it into the kid’s mouth tying it tightly before the boy could make any further sound.

 _“Just a minute.”_  He shouted, his voice perfectly and unnervingly calm with a hideous sing song quality to it. Standing up he walked straight into the bathroom, washed most of the blood from his hands, chest and face, rinsed out his mouth and wrapped a towel around himself. Walking to the door he checked himself in the mirror, satisfied the dim light obscured most sighs of the carnage and stooped to pick up a hammer which he held out of view behind his back.

The man at the door was his downstairs neighbour and was muttering something about undertaking renovations with his wife and hearing some strange noises coming from his apartment. He tried to reassure the guy there was nothing amiss but the stupid fuck kept insisting he come in and look around to reassure his better half there was no need to call the Police. Finally Rick relented and begrudgingly allowed the man entry. The guy moved into the centre of the dim room and immediately set eyes upon the boy, starkly naked, bleeding profusely, tightly restrained and tear stained. It was of course the last thing the man would  _ever_  see because before either of them could react Rick had brought the hammer down on the back of the man’s head, knocking him straight down to the floor with a dull thud, the back of the man’s skull caving in like a tapped egg. Crouching down beside the heavy lump he pressed his fingers to his neck to check his pulse and sighed with annoyance before bringing the hammer down again with a sickeningly wet crack, he checked again and this time  _smiled._

He stood up and turned towards the bed as he tied his towel tighter, it was covered in blood and brain matter.  _“Please excuse me.”_  He stated causally as if they were in the middle of a dinner date. He vanished through the door and returned a few moments later with a woman in his arms, his hand clasped over her mouth she was kicking and screaming with pure panic projecting from her eyes. Kicking the door closed behind him Rick felt her panic evolve into hysteria as she spotted the bloodied freshly dead corpse of her husband strewn all over the floor. Her hysteria however was short lived because as it seemed to reach its fevered crescendo Rick twisted her neck with a sickening crunch instantly snapping it. As she fell limp in his arms he dropped her body on top of the other and slowly pushed them both into the corner before covering them with a blanket; out of  _sight_ , out of  _mind_. He didn’t like the idea of their dead stupid eyes staring at him while he fucked the kid.

He strolled back towards the bed, threw his encrusted towel into the corner and crawled back up the kid to remove the ball gag, slipping it back behind his pillow for safe keeping.

_“Now my love, where were we….”_

\------------------------------------------------

His nipple was devastated, as was the underside of his cock, both swollen and crusting over with coagulated blood, yet still throbbing and stinging relentlessly. The gash to his inner thigh wouldn’t stop bleeding, though it had slowed considerably. That wound made his leg feel like it was on fire, yet the way that pain shot directly into his groin he was enjoying. Despite all that pain, the only thing he was focused on was the burning stretch of his ass. The man’s finger was wholly unwelcomed, but it was starting to feel like less of an intrusion, more like it fit and his body was accepting it. That was until the man shoved another one in “AH! Fuck! Ssssshhit” 

Suddenly it felt like the previous stretching hadn’t occurred and he was starting all over again. His shoulders kept popping up from the bed as he looked down at the man was doing then scrunched his eyes up and flopped back down fighting away the image. If he could move his legs properly he’d be kicking and thrashing about, putting his feet flat against the man’s chest to push him away. But he couldn’t he could only lay there, wide eyed in terror watching the man’s massive cock be lifted and positioned against his opening. His mind was endlessly praying for something to happen, anything that would interrupt this nightmare, or wake him from it. Fuck, he could feel the firm fleshy tip, applying pressure and demanding entrance. Just part of the head of the thing was too much, the expansion too great, he held his breath and clamped his eyes shut as hard as he could as if it would somehow make it all go away. 

The loud knock made him jump about an inch off the bed. His eyes snapped open to look at Rick and quite surprisingly his first thought was disapproval over being interrupted before he realized, no! Hey wait someone to save him from this torture fest. The ball gag made quick work of that thought however, it was far too big for his mouth he immediately started drooling around it. The scene that then played out in front of him all but banished any thoughts of enjoyment or pleasure from his mind replacing them with only stark terrified fear.  **FUCK.**  This guy was going to kill him, just like those two bastards. This wasn’t just about a play for power, asserting dominance and taking what he wanted.  _No._  Rick was some sort of twisted serial killer and the stupid musician had jumped willingly right into his web. 

He acted cool, portrayed a rough and tough attitude and for the most part upheld it. Convinced that in time, enough experience would harden him into the man he imagined himself to be. But at 19, stripped, naked, bleeding and drugged, tied to the bed of a sadistic killer, none of that mattered. He was never going to find out what life would make of him by time he hit 28 or 30. No, it was all going to end here, in this beautiful madman’s bed. An overwhelming emptiness filled him as he thought over all the shit he’d never done, and how hopeless his situation was. Proper silent tears started running down his face and his body was trembling all over. 

As Rick came back at him, and tossed the towel aside he whined around the gag, remembering he wasn’t just facing his death, but also the impending threat of being impaled on that massive cock first. The swollen erection seemed to have gotten bigger from the thrill of killing, only confirming the musician’s suspicions that the man did this often and for his own perverse kicks. He found some strength and used his arms and upper body to recoil, pulling himself up and away from the approaching man, practically into a sitting position at the head of the bed. When the gag was removed and a rhetorical question muttered, the rocker had no words in the face of such pure malevolence. He merely swallowed hard around the tears now running down his neck and stared up at the last face he knew he’d ever see. 

\----------------------------------------------

The kid was trembling and silently sobbing, he looked numb and Rick became immediately aware that the situation between them had changed dramatically because of the unwelcomed interruption. Rick was obsessively ritualistic and his encounters like this normally evolved in exactly the same way, each injury, each act of indulgence carefully timed and ordered to elicit the reactions he wanted exactly as he wanted them. Sure they were little deviations every now and again, of course there were, but absolutely nothing like _this_. The boy knew he was going to die, and that, at such an early stage of the evening had never happened before. Immediately it had turned a game that had seemed entirely sexual into something with a darker and more sinister edge and the boy looked traumatised, he assumed, by the newly conceived realisation that he was going to die, maybe not right now, but definitely very soon.

His eyes glanced down between the boy’s legs to the cut in his thigh and blood drenched sheets below, it was deeper than originally intended, that much was obvious, no wonder the kid looked so damn peaky, he’d lost a hell of a lot of blood already and they’d barely got started.  

As Rick sat staring at the pale quivering kid who in so many ways mirrored his younger self, he felt a strange feeling creeping up on him, not quite guilt and certainly not pity, but definitely a form of empathy.

Whatever the strange feeling was it was it forced him to take several actions he hoped would help to mitigate the strange situation he had found himself in and certainly not planned for. Jumping off the bed he retrieved a surgical stapler, one he normally used to inflict pain, in this case he used it to bring the flesh of the boy’s thigh together to stem the flow of blood. It hurt of course and he expected the kid believed it to be a further act of sadistic torture but in this case it was keeping him alive. Consumed by the need to act he didn’t bother to explain his actions to the boy as he was far too focussed on their implementation. Retrieving another syringe he injected both of the boy’s upper arms with the same solution he had used on his legs but at a lower dosage. The musician could move them and use them to grip but he certainly wouldn’t be able to throw a decent punch and as for moving from the bed, well, that was still utterly impossible with legs like lead.

Before removing the cuffs he forced a pill into the boy’s mouth, locking his jaws together and forcing him to swallow it, stroking his throat as if coaxing a beloved family pet to swallow its medicine. Satisfied it had been swallowed he released his grip on the boy knowing it would be a good fifteen minutes before it took any effect, it wouldn’t ease his pain but it would give the boy a little well needed euphoria helping him to better enjoy the situation and what was still to come. Removing the boy’s restraints was risky he knew that and as much as the logical part of him chastised him for the act he still performed it, feeling compelled to do so.

Pouring two large glasses of whiskey, this time in untainted glasses, he lit two cigarettes and handed one of the glasses and one of the cigarettes to the kid before stepping away from the bed quite aware that the kid might refuse them both and indeed try to glass him if he moved any closer. “ _I don’t give a fuck whether you drink it.”_ He stated flatly, downing his own whiskey, his cold tone a clear attempt to balance out his unexpected acts of mercy, which, whether the kid knew it or not, had definitely ended. This was not kindness, it was merely respite.  

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An odd sort of numbness had settled over the kid as Rick stood there looking at him. He still felt his injuries plenty, but the initial horrific shock of seeing two people unceremoniously murdered in front of him was starting to edge off. The musician was still plenty terrified, but just like with his pain tolerance, it seemed he’d reached a fear ceiling in the face of his own death. Somehow knowing what the planned outcome was made it slightly less nerve racking, took the unknown out of the equation. He was going to be brutally raped, sliced up and eventually killed, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. The acceptance of these truths did not take the fight out of him, or make him stop shivering with fear, but rather to start looking on the next several hours, or however long he had, as his last and treat them accordingly. 

He took several deep centering breaths as the man moved away, getting a grip on the tears and wiping his face on his restrained arm. If he was going to die it wasn’t going to be crying like a child..,well at least he hoped not. When Rick stapled his leg he yelped out curses at the sharp pain, before hissing in to sooth the sting of it. Great, so the man didn’t want him passing out from blood loss then. He supposed that was a good thing, not to spend the last remaining time of his life unconscious. Though what was swinging menacingly between his captor’s legs as he moved wasn’t the best alternative. He merely flinched at the second syringe, watching the man wide eyed and curious over this intermission in his torment. He got the feeling something had thrown the man off, likely the two festering corpses now under a ragged blanket. He didn’t give a shit what the man was forcing in his mouth. He swallowed it eagerly honestly hoping it was some sort of drug to take the edge off of the situation. 

His confusion peaked when he was released. Okay so his arms didn’t work too well, they moved where he wanted, but with additional effort. They felt like he was extremely drunk. He pulled himself up to sit and rubbed his wrists looking himself over, taking in the carnage over his flesh. He slapped his thigh, then picked up his leg and let it drop. Nope, dead weight. No chance of trying to stand, he was released but still very much trapped on this bed. Then he lifted his soft battered cock and hissed in response to the angry look of the torn skin. “Fucker..” he mumbled, the least the psycho could give him before death was a final orgasm. He looked at the whiskey like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen and he didn’t care if it was drugged. He threw the entirety back the instant the glass settled in his hand, then did throw the glass at Rick. But thanks to his noodle arms it crashed to the floor just at the end of the bed, coming nowhere near the other man. 

He sucked on the cigarette equally as greedily, incredibly thankful for its soothing effects and relishing was very likely to be his last cigarette. Fuck. He’d eaten a shitty fast food chicken sandwich earlier that evening, what a deplorable last meal. He sat glaring at the other, exhaling smoke through his nostrils, this break was nice he couldn’t deny it, but he didn’t want to be toyed with. Still laced with fear that was under control for the moment his anger had peaked back up again. “So is this the part where I’m supposed to start falling for my abuser because he’s giving me some much needed tenderness amidst his torment?” he’d seen too many movies “Fuck you, asshole. Get on with it.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------

Rick chuckled as he watched the kid’s limp little arm try to throw the glass at him, looking down casually as it smashed all over the floor. Placing down his own empty tumbler, he leaned over to collect the nastiest looking of all the glass shards and held it up to watch it twinkle at him in the dim light.

Admittedly he was glad to see the kid had some spirt back; he never targeted the weak or the terribly broken, in truth they _bored_ him, he’d much rather see outrage and defiance burning in the boy’s eyes than any form of sorrowful compliance. He was already imagining what the kid’s drug weakened hands would feel like around his throat, the musician putting everything he had into strangling him, into _stopping_ him and yet unable to cause any damage at all, the thought _amused_ him.

 _“You’ll fall for me, you all do.”_ Of course Rick’s statement had little to do with love and more to do with physical cessation.

He grinned as the kid baited him and reacted by flicking his cigarette across the room. In the short time it took for it to bounce against the concrete wall and spark out, he’d already made his way back onto the bed and was pressed up against the boy, the cigarette slapped from his hand, the sharp shard of glass poised at his throat. His hand shot out like a viper to grasp the kid’s neck and as he squeezed he drew the sharp sliver of glass down the centre of the boy’s chest, at a shallow scraping depth. His dark eyes locked with the kid’s electric blue ones, not even bothering to pay attention to the damage he was causing. Not that he needed to _see_ it; the sensation of skin breaking under slashing glass was more than enough to cause a new wave of arousal. As it washed over him he shuddered with need, pushing his erection against the boy’s stomach for some much needed friction as he dug the glass in just a little bit further. His gaze drifted down to the boy’s mouth and he frowned with frustration resenting the fact that in that moment he wanted to kiss him more than he wanted to cut him.

_To be continued..._

_(Link to the current thread on Tumblr to read the most recent progress can be found[here](http://evilgsanchez.tumblr.com/post/149421506502/feral-youth-au-rick-rocker).)_


	2. Continuation

** Chapter 2 **

The rocker was glad he’d almost finished the cigarette anyway when it was whacked from his hand. He flinched much less the time at the menacing face so close to his and the threat to his neck. His head lifted trying to pull away from the glass and he exhaled the smoke he held into Rick’s face. The second his lungs emptied the man’s hand was on him, but thankfully not prohibiting him from intaking fresh air. The inhale quickly turned into a hiss of pain and was chased by another yell of distress “Ahhhhhh!! F-f-fuck!!” In spite of the raging pain from the long slice across his skin, the musician found himself arching upwards into the man’s movements and his outcry turned inward to a deeper growling sound in his chest. 

Oh it fucking hurt, but thankfully the newest addition to his wound count pulled focus from the others. This time he’d kept his eyes open and fixed on the other man’s as his hands grabbed tight hand fulls of the sheets. It felt like something had shifted within him, somehow telling his captor to get on with it made him feel like the man was doing what the musician wanted him to do rather than simply abusing him. He didn’t think it made a lot of sense and he quickly blamed the cocktail of intoxicants in his system for the logic. Flawed reasoning aside, the man’s abuse didn’t have quite the same impact as before and he found himself giving the other a challenging look, again thinking if these were to be his last moments he’d die the man he always fancied himself to be. 

Fresh resolve gave him courage, but it did nothing to banish the underlying natural fear response at facing extinction. With great effort he brought his shoulders up from the bed and his face closer to Rick’s. Still possessing a slight tremble, his voice also shook, but it’s was far more clear and composed than before “You .. ahhh! … you have a real knack for .. for this don’t you?” He hissed again as the glass went deeper still and he felt the man’s throbbing girth against him. “Probably t-take young … young guys like me apart this way all … all the time?” He had no idea why he was saying these things as his eyes combed the other’s face as if seeing him clearly for the first time. “Well you’ve never had the likes of me in your clutches I can promise you that.” 

He lunged forward the last of the distance between them and claimed Rick’s mouth with his, stealing a kiss with an act of surprise he shoved his tongue into the other man’s mouth to taste the whiskey and cigarettes on Rick’s breath. Just as the minimal strength in his body was about to give way he bit down, hard, on the man’s lower lip. He felt the man’s skin pop between his teeth and enjoyed the quick twinge of his captor’s blood as it ran into his mouth. His arms gave out and he fell back to the bed, face and chest covered in blood and a twisted grin on his face.

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Rick was admittedly somewhat taken aback when the boy lunged forward to kiss him, he’d expected the drugs to take the edge off, but they certainly weren’t responsible for this, no, this was  _all_  the kid.  _Fuck_ , he tasted so damn good….he could feel the shake in the boy’s arms signalling it was taking everything the musician had to remain upright and keep the connection and as he felt the kid bite down on his lip it became painfully clear why.  _“Fuck…”_  He shouted, initially more with surprise than agony. Immediately he pulled away from the boy, his hand shooting up to his face to assess the damage; only bitten, not torn; the last thing he needed was another facial scar, the other was already conspicuous enough.

 _“You little shit.”_ Rick growled, wiping his mouth across his arm leaving a lurid red smear, fuck it stung like hell. Reaching over to the table he retrieved his scalpel deciding it was only fair to return the favour. The kid was grinning at him and so rather than wipe the smug grin off his face, he punched it off, drawing his fist back to smack the kid square in the face simultaneously busting his nose, deliberately keeping his jaw intact. The boy was beautifully dazed and so while distracted he grabbed the boy’s jaw and thrust the scalpel at his face tearing it down his top lip straight down through the bottom one in a surprisingly linear line.

 _“There….now isn’t that fucking pretty.”_  He sneered, giving the kid’s cheek a mocking little pat before throwing the bloodied scalpel back onto the table. The scar vaguely matched his own and in its adornment he brought one that little bit closer to being a reflection of the other. 

 _“You get how this works now huh?”_  He baited with a wicked grin.  _“You’re number thirteen….and you’re not the first to fight back.”_  Rick shifted off the boy taking position between his deadened legs. Slipping his hands between them he parted the boy’s cheeks lowered his head and spat viciously against the boy’s entrance covering it in a swift swirled splatter of blood and saliva.

_“You just lost your lubrication privileges kid.”_

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The rocker expected retaliation for biting his captor, but he didn’t anticipate a punch to the face. It was too aggressive, sloppy and uncalculated for the man who’d so far show the musician everything but. He was accustomed to punches though, having taken many to the face before. He hollered at the sickening crunch of his nose breaking and the horrible shot of pain that accompanied it, but he rebounded much faster from the punch than anything else the man had yet delivered onto him. 

As soon as the stars cleared however he wished they hadn’t since the first thing he focused on was the glint of a scalpel bearing down on his lip. “AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!” He called out in anguish as the delicate skin around his mouth was viciously sliced open and his cocky resolve to be more than a 19 year old boy as he died was once again buried beneath the excruciating pain and renewed waves of terror over the extent of just what this man could actually do to him. 

The devastation to his mouth was the worst yet, more so even than the brutal removal of his cock ring. He lay there breathing heavily through his nose and glaring daggers at the other man. What he wouldn’t give to get his hand on that surgical tool and have at Rick’s face. He rip the man’s scar right back open, then slit his fucking throat. 

He didn’t even remotely register the fact that the way his face was torn open matched the his attacker, he just sneered at the man as he patted his cheek like some reprimanded pet. 13? Huh, he’d expected a much higher number. He brought a heavy hand up to rub the back of his thumb across his busted lip then nodded in acknowledgement of the other’s statement, though he hardly would consider being mostly drugged and giving the man a small bite fighting back. 

He about jumped a mile when Rick grabbed at his ass again, while getting sliced down the chest, his nose broken and lip viciously torn open, he’d forgotten about the solid threat of his captors demanding erection. He clenched and recoiled after the warm wet glob of body fluid hit his delicate, untainted hole. No lube!?! Fuck now he was terrified, the man’s cock was huge there was simply no way it was going to force it’s way into his body dry. “Didn’t y-you hear me earlier?” His words were muffled around the blood coming from his lip and nose, but cocky and defiant which he wasn’t sure where the tone was coming from. He was brave enough to talk back, but still his voice shook. “I-I’ve never been f-f-fucked before you sadistic piece of shit, it’s going to hurt you just as bad as me if you shove in there dry, you fucking psycho.” God he wanted to spit a mouthful of blood in the bastard’s face, but he felt sure if he did he’d have his tongue cut out. 

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He’d enjoyed the murderous little flicker that had passed fleetingly across the boy’s face, the expression that told him that if the kid had been in any fit state to fight, he would have definitely tried to kill him in that moment,  _good_ , he wanted to the kid to hate him. Rick had learned a long time ago that it was easier to make people hate him than love him and hate could be just as passionate and all consuming, perhaps even more so, love faded, but the fires of anger could always be stoked.

 _“I heard you perfectly well.”_  He snapped back clenching two of his fingers tightly together before inserting them straight into the boy without any warning what-so-ever, twisting them as he slowly started to part them as widely as he could, expanding the boy’s pouty puckered little entrance.  _Fuck_  it was tight, the kid wasn’t kidding; his entire body was already tensing at the unannounced and unwanted intrusion.

 _“You think I don’t want it to hurt?”_ He asked rhetorically, his expression a practical sneer.  _“It’s not my fault you’re a frigid little fuck who’s never given it up!”_  He pushed harder now, deeper until his fist was pressing between the kid’s cheeks as he strained to reach further inside him.

 _“I can’t wait to be balls deep inside you….fuck…fucking out all that bold bluster, watching your entire body blush while you can barely bring yourself to look at me.”_  He finger fucked the boy faster now as if to give him a little taste of what was to come.

Withdrawing his hand he wiped it down the boy’s thigh making sure to catch his surgical staples in the process. Grabbing the musicians’s weak legs he hoisted them both over his shoulders to allow him to lewdly spread the kid out for him. Shifting forward he positioned himself close to the boy and took his cock in his hand to pump it back and forth a few times, making sure the kid’s eyes witnessed every thick inch of it, a wordless threat issued through a few aggressive jerks and a wholly wicked smile.

“ _This how you imagined your first time kid?”_  He asked in a soft menacing tone punctuated by gasps as he continued to masturbate near the kid’s tight spit slick hole, reading himself for entry…fuck he was so close he could almost taste it….he licked his lips at the memory, of course, he _already_  had tasted it.  

Stretching over to the table he retrieved his camera.  _“I don’t need you to enjoy this.”_ He laughed callously, running the head of his erection across the boy’s entrance before slowly, teasingly starting to edge the fleshy tip in. Pointing the camera he took a Polaroid of the boy’s face as he started to push in further, fuck it burned already, he didn’t care.  _“Smile.”_  He took four more snapshots cataloguing the boy’s injuries and his impending entry, then placed the camera behind him to concentrate more fully on the task in hand. 

_“I’d say take a deep breath, but let’s be honest kid, it’s hardly going to help.”_

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 “Fuck!” He called out loudly as the man’s digits were unceremoniously forced inside of him. “Fuck.. f-fuck .. fuck” his voice was pain laced and whiney, it was no pleasure chant. Admittedly he hadn’t thought of that, but of course this madman wanted it to hurt. The stretch of two fingers at once was horribly unpleasant and the unrelenting way the man continued to shove and prod right from the off was making his entire body curl inward and recoil. “AHHH FUCKING… Fuck!” the scissoring was even worse, pulling and stretching his muscle against all his protests and his desperate clenching, trying to hold the man back and reject him from his body. He was flushed and sweating and his efforts forces fresh trickles of blood to ooze from his wounds. In a different set of circumstances the man’s words would have been an incredible turn on, if he wasn’t already savagely beaten and facing his own death after his brutal forced fucking. His face screwed up in distaste as Rick described what he planned to do then wiped the rockers own filth across his open thigh wound.

Though his legs didn’t do much, he had his heels buried deep into the mattress and propping himself up in a vain attempt to push himself up and away from Rick’s intrusions as the man increased pace and depth. He reached up behind him and grabbed the chains that were drilled into the wall for some leverage but too late. Just as he was about to yank his body away, Rick grabbed his legs and tugged him into a lewd position over his shoulders. As revolted as he was at this prospect he couldn’t take his eyes off the man, and the massive erection that was apparently about to be shoved violently inside of his tight virginal hole. “Ah fuck, fuck no no no no” his previous panicked chanting had resumed as the man stroked himself so close to the musicians body the boy could feel the heat coming off of him. Fuck it seemed like the man was making himself longer and thicker with each pass of his hand, the paranoid fear in his mind turning the man’s cock into some sort of monster.

His hands shot out to desperately cling onto fist fulls of the sheets when Rick asked his question. Oh fuck this is it. He’s going to do it now. Fuck fuck fuck. His mind was racing, trying uselessly to prepare himself for something he had nothing to go off of to do such a thing with. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were clenched so tightly it raised his upper body up off the bed slightly and his eyes squinted shut to try and banish the horrible scene. He thrashed about uselessly out of reflex as his body tried to flee from the imminent danger. Didn’t need him to enjoy it… fucking no kidding. The bastard was obviously getting off on just how much he wasn’t enjoying it, but the impending threat of being penetrated for the first time was too great for him to care that his actions were feeding right into the man. . 

His bucking and frantic, albeit drug inhibited, movements only increased when he felt the man press the tip of his hard cock against him. “ **NO !**  Fuck fuck fuck fuck!! Nnnnnn” his hissing protests devolved into a whine as the tip edged inward. Once again the abrupt stretch was burning incomprehensibly, and it had only just begun. Rick’s cock was so much wider than two of his fingers. Shit, why hadn’t he made a better case for the lube. He whined more discomforted sounds and covered his face with his arm when he heard the camera again, hissing in pain as he whacked his busted nose. His hips tried to buck up and flinch away from the invasion and he sucked in a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t do this, but the threat was too great and the girth to menacing, he was already in so much pain and the agony had pushed him to his limits. He lowered his arm away from his busted face, but kept his eyes tightly shut as if it would hide his embarrassment “P-please don’t .. please don’t f-fuck me dry..” he felt sure it was pointless but he opened his eyes to look pleadingly at Rick and continued “Grant y-your victim one final request b-before you take my life and m-my pride.. for fucks sake, y-you’re already forcibly taking it from me! Do I really need to suffer that much before you kill me?”

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It was a beautifully chaotic combination, the boy’s frantic protests, his squirming, his embarrassment and his quite obvious discomfort at his relentless objectification and violation. Just when Rick thought it couldn’t get any better, it did, the boy started  _begging_. God if he started crying he worried he might blow his load there and then. This one was special, he wanted to break down his barriers, to strip him back to his core and devastate his senses. He wanted to be the boy’s entire world even if it was only for a few short hours and if he had to break him to achieve it, he definitely would. 

As soon as he heard it a sly smile settled on his features and he stopped moving, instead remaining still and taking a moment to appreciate the desperate tone of the plea. Baring down on the boy he shifted his hips to slide his length across the ragged sticky wound where he had ripped out to boy’s genital piercing with his bare teeth. Lowering himself down on top of him he brought his face uncomfortably close as he pressed his chest against the boy deliberately putting pressure on the freshly carved scar running down the boy’s chest and his severed, still weeping nipple.  _“I can be quite accommodating when I’m in the right mood boy.”_  His tone was mocking and dripping with conceit.

 _“I’ll oblige you….”_  He moved his face closer hovering it above the boy’s own, gripping the kid’s chin he slapped him across the face,  _hard_ , to aggravate his busted nose and broken bloodied lip.  _“….if you beg me to fuck you, beg me like the desperate little cock hungry whore we both know you really are.”_  Reaching over to the table he grabbed the container of lubrication and smoothed the bottle down the kid’s face before forcing it into his mouth, coaxing him to suck on the bottle it like a little cock.  _“But first you have to kiss me, kiss me like you want nothing more than to feel me inside you, kiss me like you need me to fuck you…..show me how good you are at earning what you want.”_

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The rocker took a deep breath of relief when RIck shifted and the intense burning was relieved. He knew it was to be a short reprieve, but he would relish the delay just the same. He winched and groaned with the sharp renewed pain of Rick settling over his chest and on top of his injuries. The weight of the man over him was oddly comforting, a feeling that thoroughly confused his blood deprived, drugged brain. His brow raised at the man’s words into a questioning expression, surely this was not to be granted without conditions and the musicians mind starting racing with the thoughts of just what he would have to exchange for the lubrication. 

He further moaned at the slaps to the face that sent blood flying from his lip onto the bed. Expecting to be told he’d be paying with a limb or even his balls, the boy was pleasantly surprised to hear the man say he had to beg to be violated. Sure, it was a huge contradiction to what he actually felt like saying to his captor, but compared to the incredibly vivid image of Rick slicing open his scrotum to remove his testicles, it was a welcomed request. He gagged when the bottle was placed in his mouth, not so much from the plastic itself but the feeling of his slightly healing lip being spread back open and a fresh torrent of blood filling his mouth. Oh great, condition two. He wondered how many he’d have to fill before he was granted the contents of the tube he was sucking on and his thighs twitched as he realized the previous metal image was still a distinct possibility. 

For all this incredibly vicious, cruel, inhuman treatment, the rocker still felt an underlying attraction to his attacker. The heat of the week of waiting still resided somewhere within his gut and quite in spite of his outward surface reactions, there was a small part of him that was excited about the prospect of being forcibly overflowing with the man’s cock. He’d pushed it down deep and refused to acknowledge it until now but with the man’s second condition looming over him and the promise of reward by lubricated violation ahead of him, he allowed these perverse feelings to bubble up to the surface in order to comply with the man’s demand. 

He closed his eyes a moment to center himself to perform for the older man and turned his head to coax the bottle out of his mouth. Using what strength he could coax into his arms, he lifted them and wrapped them around his aggressor, smoothing his palms up Rick’s back and into the man’s hair. He pulled downward, encouraging the man to come closer to his beaten, busted face. He painfully licked his mutilated lips and looked into the hazle eyes of the man who would eventually be ending his life before joining their mouths and kissing Rick like he’d never kissed anyone before. As if it was the last act of his existence and he was pouring everything he loved and enjoyed in his life into the moment, he kissed him like the man was the beginning and the end of all things. For in this moment, utterly at this man’s mercy, waiting for violation and death, nothing existed for the rocker but Rick, and as he opened up to this tormented inner part of this experience through the kiss, he was quite surprised to find that there was real emotion for the man buried beneath all his anguish after all.

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Rick had expected the kiss to feel forced, heavy and urgent but laced with a definable disgust that marked it out as a vile act of subjugation. What he received instead was entirely unexpected and it swelled in his mouth with powerfully raw emotion, a deep desperate kiss that made him feel like a lost lover suddenly rediscovered. Not only did the boy’s commitment to it astound him, his own reaction to it astounded him further, he folded into that kiss, surrendering to it, returning it with just as much sentiment, perhaps even more. No one had ever kissed him like this and that fact suddenly made him feel a sting of loneliness; Rick didn’t connect with people, he never let them get close enough to and he’d gone out of his way to both physically and mentally destroy the ones who had dared to try. The realization was an unwelcome one and it corrupted the kiss forcing him to pull away with an air of outrage as if the kid should be punished for daring to try and make him feel  _anything_.

He edged back from the boy, his expression one of suspicion more than anything else having clearly been somewhat rattled by the sensation they’d just shared. Grabbing the bottle of lube he settled back between the boy’s legs and drizzled a good amount of the translucent liquid over his cock. Taking it in his hand he slicked the slippery contents around his entire length and smeared the rest between the boy’s quivering cheeks before guiding the musician’s legs back over his shoulders.

Drawing in a deep shaky breath, thick with anticipation he rolled his hips back and then gradually pushed forward, slowly feeding his dick into the boy inch by inch, not stopping until the kid’s greedy hole had swallowed the whole thing up. He gasped as he bottomed out inside the boy for the first time and stayed there for a moment to appreciate the tightness of him and the wonderful expression on his face. After a few seconds he started to pull back out and groaned in response to the delicious pressure which he had to pull against for release,  _Jesus_ , he could already tell that fucking this kid was going to be mind-blowing. When he was at the edge of the boy’s entrance his cock finally sprung out of the boy and slapped wetly against his balls.

 _“Now….”_  He said smoothing his hand across the boy’s taut stomach before giving his balls a nasty little smack. ” _Beg for it.”_

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The kiss had without a doubt turned out to be the most enjoyable part of this experience so far. He got completely lost in the returned almost affections and when it was broken it felt like a bucket of ice water had startled him back to his blood stained reality. He wore a pout as Rick moved away, the kiss had shook him, being completely unexpected and cracking open a deep hidden well within the musician he’d never even dared to acknowledge before.  The pleasure from the action once again mingled with the pain sensations into that delightful mixture from earlier when the man had been jerking him and he moaned in response to it. He ventured to consider maybe he liked the pain… maybe the horrific size of the man now lubing himself up wasn’t going to be all bad. 

Still he jumped at the moist fingers rubbing in between his cheeks, his hands shot up to grab onto the chains again for something firm to hold onto and ground himself as he starting taking very deep purposely slow breaths to keep from falling into a full blown panic attack. He grimaced as his legs were raised “Oh god.. fuck fuck… oh shit “ he mumbled hysterically with a fresh rush of tredipitation. He couldn’t fight the automatic tightening and fierce clenching as the man pushed in “FUCK! AHHH!” his cries became louder as he felt sure his ass was splitting around the girth of the older man. He hissed in through his teeth and closed his eyes tight, entire body rigid and tense as the man forced his way in as deep as possible. 

When Rick bottomed out and stopped, the rocker exhaled loudly and forcibly a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. The intensity of the stinging burn had brought tears to his eyes and they squeezed their way out to run down his cheeks. Just keep breathing, he told himself, in and out, relax. He knew his tension wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t force his muscles to accept the intrusion. As Rick pulled out completely he sighed a massive sound of relief and his whole body went slack on the bed. His head hit the mattress with a heavy thump and he stared up at the ceiling, still being able to feel the man inside of him. 

He ached slightly at the hand over his stomach, a gut reaction that surprised him and jumped at the slap to his balls. He took a deep shaky breath and kept his eyes fixed on the pipework, unable to fulfill the request and make eye contact at the same time. “P-please.. “ he had to take another breath and start over, begging didn’t come naturally “More, give me more.. Fuck me p-please, h-h-hard and fast .. sh-show me what it means to be fucked..” He swallowed hard, hardly believing what was coming out of his mouth “P-please fuck me and make me yours.”

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Rick had made a lot of pretty young boy’s beg for him and some broke far easier than others, in the end of course they _all_ did, whether it be to beg for his cock, beg him to stop, beg him for mercy or beg for their lives. Each time it had been forced, an act delivered through cruelty that signalled nothing more than the desperate anguish of his kill. The words that came out of the boy’s voice seemed vastly different, their tone, their intensity and their structure communicated to Rick that the pair of them had established some very blurred lines here. One moment the kid would feel like his victim, the next his conquest and the next, his lover, he’d been lurching between these extremes of feeling all night and right now he felt trapped between all three, feeling them all, all of them at once. If the boy was putting on an act entirely for his benefit, admittedly he fell for it because it seemed the most genuine response he’d received from someone in a long time. Immediately it made him want to be closer to the kid and so he lifted the boy’s legs down from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist so he could lay back down upon him and feel the kid’s heat and smell his sweat tainted skin.

 _“Make you mine?”_ He repeated bowing his head to slick some coagulated blood from the boy’s chest before glancing up and forcing the boy to look at him. _“Don’t you dare hide from me.”_ He warned as the kid failed to hold his gaze and he was forced to give him another sharp slap across the face. Satisfied he had the boy’s full attention he shifted his hand between them and poised the head of his cock at the kid’s entrance then once again slowly started to push in. _“Fuck….”_ he gasped as he was enveloped by that beautifully tight sleeve of muscle. _“You’re already mine….”_ He breathed, meaning it in every sense, knowing that the kid would never feel the touch of another after tonight. Fuck, this one was so much like himself he wouldn’t want to kid to ever be touched by anyone else but him, he was perfect just as he was. Rick bit into his broken bottom lip as the thought passed through his mind knowing he shouldn’t be thinking like this, knowing they were only ever perfect when they were dead.

At a shallow depth he started to move in and out of the boy each time plunging deeper, each time growing slightly faster. “ _Mmm come on boy, tell me, tell me how it feels to finally get that virginal little ass of yours filled…”_ He gave the boy a particularly savage little thrust, pushing his full length in with a hoarse groan _. “….filled up to the brim…”_

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He flinched as the slap whacked his face to the side, but he quickly bought it back forward and looked at the man as instructed. He was getting this bizarre bursts of endorphins from pleasing the man and he found himself wanting to do more. Slowly falling into an abyss of granting his attacker’s every whim. He kept his eyes on the other as he lowered back down over him. This time the sting from his injuries from the weight of the man was expected and appreciated. He was definitely coming to enjoy the surges of pain. 

Keeping his piercing blue eyes on Rick he tried to keep his struggling to a minimum, things had taken an odd turn here and the rocker was feeling the true need behind his begging. He was afraid of the burn, of more violence and eventual death, but he wanted the man back inside of him. He took a shuddery inhale as Rick reached down between them and felt the first stirrings in his own cock since the barbell had been roughly ripped out. He didn’t have any idea if he could get an erection in this state, but he was definitely noticing the tingles of arousal that told him his body was keen on trying. 

Still he clenched at the renewed intrusion, gasped and swore loudly at the fresh burn and tearing sensations as his body was forced to accept the large girth once again. His tear filled eyes roamed Rick’s face and he felt the man’s words reach in and put a stranglehold on his soul he knew he’d die with. Maybe it was some sort of strange twisted adaptation of stockholm syndrome but he felt like belonging to this man now in this moment had been where his life was leading all along. A relatively short existence full of mistreatment, fights and never belonging anywhere, he thought it an oddly fitting end that he should find that sense of attachment to another person in a man set out to take everything from him, including his life. 

As the man shifted his hips and started setting a steady rhythm, the boy found with each plunge in it hurt a little less, his body slowly, painfully slowly, accepting the invasion and adapting to it. His muscles were just starting to relax and then to shake with the trembling after effects of having been held so tight for so long. His face blushed scarlet though at the man’s question. It was one thing to privately be just starting to think he may enjoy this and quite another to speak it out loud. “I-I.. I .. uhhhmmm” he was having trouble finding words or speaking amidst the intensely overwhelming sensations. It felt like he’d been empty all his life and only now was complete.

It still hurt a great deal, but he could tell as the muscles started to ease into Rick’s movements that this would feel good, glorious even, once he got accustomed to being so full. He tried again to answer his dominator “It.. it feels.. AHHH!!” Ricks extra firm thrust seemed to hit something inside that made every nerve in his body alight and fire at once, sending a delightful shiver throughout his body. “AHhhh fuck, what was that?!” he called out then moaned a proper sound of pleasure as his arms shot up around the other man and his nails dug into Rick’s back. He simply didn’t have the capacity to answer the other as the deep penetration took a turn away from the burning and moved into feeling good “Mmmmm-more ..” 

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“ _That kid was your prostate.”_  He stated fairly matter-of-factly with a self-satisfied grin as he heard the boy deeply moan for more. He could already tell the kid was starting to loosen and relax, his deep strokes more easily accepted, the vacuum inside the boy opening up to become a perfectly pressured sucking void that beckoned him to thrust deeper and faster each time he re-entered. Grabbing the boy’s legs he heaved them over his shoulders and moved even closer to reach new depths with deep greedy thrusts. It brought him a strange pleasure to know that no one had made the boy feel like this before, he knew the feeling well, that sickly heated full up feeling of being completely overwhelmed and at the mercy of another. He was well aware that in the kid’s current state all of those sensations would be amplified and he adored that he was the one responsible for it.

As he continued to push into the boy, his hips rolling at a smooth measured pace in time to short, sharp gasps, he realised that every part of him wanted to fall into the kid, to be enveloped and embraced by him. It was a strange sensation and one he hadn’t experienced before with any of the other boys he had brought back to meet their end. He  _needed_  contact but feared the implications of making things any more intimate than they were already becoming and so instead of running his fingers through the boy’s hair and kissing him again, he started to  _strangle_  him.

With one hand clinging to the boy’s skinny hip to hold him in place and force him down to meet every savage thrust of his cock, he wrapped the other around the boy’s throat and carefully started to squeeze, applying enough pressure to choke the boy but not enough to kill him.  _“Oh fuck…”_  He groaned, instinctively thrusting faster and more erratically as he watched the veins in the boy’s neck rise with the strain and his skin blush red; damn that was  _pretty_. Two mantras repeated endlessly in his head as he fucked the boy and continued to savagely strangle him….’Don’t cum…don’t kill him.’ He couldn’t accept the two sensations separately, he had to have them both at the same time, he had to watch the boy take his last breath as he fucked the last of his seed into him; anything else would leave him dissatisfied.

He pulled his hand off the musician’s neck quickly as if he didn’t trust himself to stop, the act looking almost self-condemning and immediately he became consumed by the need for contact again. It was like an itch that he was terrified to scratch, fearful that if he sought to satisfy it, even in the smallest sense, that itch would start to burn and that flame would spread to engulf him. They were so similar it was utterly disarming and the kid was so hungry for him it was practically charming but the boy had seen too much, far too much and he couldn’t allow himself fall for a corpse. He looked deeply into the boy’s piercing blue eyes and wished he could express something,  _anything_  that might hint at his growing dilemma….instead he reached for the boy’s pen knife and drove it deep down into the kid’s shoulder until he hit bone, allowing the boy’s screams to calm the frantic whispers of his internal debate.

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Prostate? Well now he understood what all the fuss was about and he found himself squirming his hips as best he could to try and get the man to hit it again. Fuck he was coming so close, just grazing the edge of the sublime burst of feeling, but deliberately avoiding it. He would whine every so often with the need to have it stimulated again. Everything was alight, his entire body tingled and pulsed with the man’s thrusts and the rocker knew he wanted to feel this over and over. Damnit, why did he wait so long? The fact that his first fuck was going to be his last soured his stomach and brought a fresh appreciation of the mortal danger he was in back into focus. 

His arms came off the other to yank at his own hair in a terrified helpless expression of pleasured induced anxiety. This was such a clusterfuck of emotions he thought they would kill him without anymore of his blood being spilt. His head rolled back, pointing his chin up at the ceiling as he lost himself in Rick’s trusts, the force of the man’s girth spreading him open, the way his muscles quickly recovered as the man withdrew and tightened themselves only to be forced immediately back open. His sweat slicked back sliding up and down the bed, the way the force of their bodies colliding pulled at his wounds and sent out shivers of pain, the incredible sounds coming from Rick that he felt were just about the perfect things to be the last he’d ever hear. The way his body seems to ache for it, every nerve reaching out for the other as he pulled away to then savor the warm contact when flesh met flesh once again forcing a deep moan of appreciation from the boy’s chest every time. 

His eyes were tightly clamped shut and head rolled back about as far as it could go, shoulders raised from the bed as he was arching up and down into the impaling motions. Stretching his chest injuries out painfully and reopening the weak scabbing that had begun to form so fresh trickles of blood oozed out, his hands had found the chains to grip onto again when Rick’s hand found his throat. The man’s hand instantly had a crushing strength and the kid’s eyes snapped open in horror. Was this it? Was he going to choke him to death now? Fuck not yet, he didn’t want to die now.. fuck he didn’t want to die at all but certainly not before he’d had more of the man’s incredible cock. His hands came to Rick’s wrist and began fruitlessly clawing at the tightly clamped fingers trying to lift them from his neck. Panic had overtaken his features and he tried desperately to get his legs to cooperate and push the man off of him to no avail. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, slowly the fight started to die off as his oxygen supply was consumed. His hands fell limply to his chest and his eyes started to slide shut as he was falling into darkness …

His entire torso shot up from the bed with the force of the effort if sucking in life giving breath when released. The intense wave of fresh oxygen instantly made him feel high, mixed with profound feelings of rejoice that he was infact still breathing. Tears spilled from his eyes with from the shock of it all and the combination of sensations went straight to his gut and he felt his cock swell up considerably. Fuck, _that_  was glorious. He was too focused on himself to noticed the other man’s internal struggle, he had thought it was the end, he was as good as dead, then brought back from the precipice. He barely had time to enjoy the relief however before Rick brought the dagger brutally hard down into his shoulder. A fresh scream of anguish filled the room and one of his hands reflexively shot over to grab at the wound. “FUCK!!” His mind was full of fierce physically responses and there was no room for thought as he grabbed the hilt of the knife and yanked it from his own body. Completely without consideration over consequences he flipped it over in his hand and brought it into Rick’s side, though considerably more shallow due to his weakened state, he managed to get it just below the man’s ribs “How do you like it? Fucker.” 

\----------------------------------------------------

Rick grimaced, his teeth clenching as he felt the blade pierce his side, immediately he recognised the impact had been light, enough to break the skin,  _yes_ , but not enough to fully embed the knife in the muscle. Instantly he wrapped his hand around the boy’s fingers forcing him to retain a hold on the blade. “ _I like it just fine.”_  He whispered back using his greater strength to push the boy’s hand so the blade was suspended threateningly just above the musician’s ribs. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the fresh blossom of pain in his side, he resumed the motion of his hips to continue fucking the boy at a slower and more tender pace, one designed to keep the kid’s attentions on the knife.

 _“Do you need me to teach you how to do it properly?”_  He snarled, moving his face closer in time to gradually forcing the boy’s hand closer to his torso. “ _You only needed to ask.”_  He punctuated his last word by driving his cock deep into the boy and forcing the kid to stab into himself, slowly edging the knife into his abdomen, deeply into the muscle to glance it off of one of his ribs and lightly lacerate his lung; the last thing Rick wanted to do was collapse the boy’s lung mid-fuck, he at least wanted to finish first.

Pulling out the blade he threw it across the room then placed the boy’s palm over the wound to stem the flow of blood, grinning as he watched it pump harder between the boy’s bloodied fingers in time to every hard thrust of his cock into the boy’s tight tender little ass, the sight and sensation making it feel like he was literally fucking the very life blood out of the boy.

Grasping the kid’s other wrist he wrenched it towards him, grabbed the boy’s fingers and plunged them into the fresh wound at his own side, groaning loudly as he felt a fresh flood of endorphins in response to the new pain. Rick  _liked_ pain, he liked it  _a lot_ , but he rarely allowed other people to inflict it,  _still,_  he’d already crossed so many of his own lines with this boy tonight that breaking another one of his own self-imposed rules barely seemed to matter at this point.

Picking up the pace he started to plough into the boy with brutal abandon, his eyes racking over each and every one of the younger man’s injuries. Slowly his sight shifted from the boy’s sweat stained forehead down to his severed bloodied lip, passing down to his bruised throat before lingering on the sucked bruises around his collar bone which curved around to the wound in the boy’s shoulder already bleeding profusely. Tilting his head his gaze drifted to the boy’s ripped, devastated nipple before settling on the wound freshly carved between the boy’s ribs. His hungry eyes flickered down to the boy’s torn skin where he’d ripped the piercing from his cock with his teeth and then finally paused on the boy’s stapled still weeping thigh. To see all of it like this, all of it all at once, in all its painful red raw glory as he continued to ram himself deeply into the boy was almost too much and he had to slow his thrusts in order to keep himself for climaxing prematurely.

 _“Look at the fucking state of you…”_  he gasped between hard, slow, savage thrusts.  _“You’re beautiful.”_

\-----------------------------------------------

The rocker instantly realized his mistake, it had been a instinctual response and a stupid one. He grimaced at the man’s words and bone crushing strength in which Rick forced him to maintain the hold on the hilt of the small blade. He could feel the bones in his hand rubbing over each other and he suspected the man didn’t realize the force he was using since he knew his assailant hardly cared if he fractured the musician’s hand and he could never play again. The oozing wound in his shoulder was the deepest yet and ached terribly. It sent shooting stabs of pain right up his neck to throb in his temple and his head kept craning to the side to meet it with a squished up face as he tried to focus though the pain. 

The upside was it made the rest of his injuries merely feel like intense burns, but he’d lost a lot of blood and attempting to stab Rick may just have used up the last of his physical strength, so he had little resistance against the man trying to turn the knife towards his own flesh. He watched, eyes wide and helpless, as the slightly older man positioned the blade against his abdomen and he inhaled sharply in anticipation. As the metal slid into his soft body, easily parting his skin and muscle he held that breath and grunted as he clenched his teeth. This pain was incomprehensible in comparison to what he’d yet endured, but he wasn’t screaming. Instead everything bared down and clamped tight, including his asshole around the other’s cock. 

As the blade ran along the bone of his lowest rib and grazed his lung he finally let the air trapped in his chest escaped him as a single loud wail. “AHhhhHH!! FUCK!!” He hissed the air right back in and glared at Rick a hostile look that said quite plainly he’d tear the fucker apart if he had any strength left in his body at all. He coughed and sputtered as the dagger was removed with his body’s natural responses to the assault. Fuck it was bleeding excessively, he could feel the hot liquid bubbling out of his gut, spilling out between his fingers against all his attempts to hold the life sustaining fluid inside. He clapped his other hand over the bloody one to try and apply more pressure to ebb the flow, only to have it yanked away and made to poke at the cut in Rick’s side. 

The brutal initial shock of this fatal injury started to subside and he was able to focus outside the waves of intense pain. He realized then that Rick was still fucking him without abandon. Shit, how had he managed to lose track of the repetitive motions of the man’s hips filling him up over and over. He bit his torn lip and closed his eyes, taking deep, albeit still quite shallow, breaths. He tried to shift his mental attentions, make his mind focus on the pleasant sensations the man’s cock produced. It was the only way he’d be able to maintain consciousness, prevent shock and stay alive a little longer. He regressed inside of himself, pulling at his deepest reserves to strengthen his resolve, finding untapped source of vitality that seemed to flourish from the unique cocktail of pain and pleasure he was experiencing. A hidden well of endurance he didn’t know he possessed. 

As his eyes slid back open they were filled with a renewed sense of determination not to die in a weeping, writhing pool of anguish. He wasn’t just some boy the guy had found on the side of the road, he was made of tougher stuff than most. When Rick adjusted his pace the change in sensation sent a fresh rush of endorphins through him and he moaned in response to it, keeping his defiant gaze fixed on his captor as the man looked over all his handiwork. When his dominator spoke he all but snarled at the man “Y-you.. you .. ahh fuck..” he had to groan and adjust the hand covering the stab hole in his gut as the man’s thrusts brought out a fresh torrent of blood and pain. He swallowed and tried to speak again. “You can sever and annihilate my b-body, but you’ll never crack my spirit ahhnnng..” the pain was making it near impossible to speak  “I-I.. I’m motherfucking Rick Sanchez asshole, no man can break me.”

\------------------------------------------------------

So much blood, flowing out of the boy, gushing in time to every bold beat of his heart, matching the fluid movements of Rick’s hips, swelling, spilling and pooling red around them both, the very sight of it was becoming simply too much for Rick to bear and was already pushing him towards the edge of an earlier than intended climax. The boy was loud, so damn loud, each anguished groan and pleasured moan filled every gap of space left between them and deafened him, commanding his entire attention. Well, not truly its entirety, what remained had been claimed by the boy’s defiant blue eyes which were fixed on him unyielding and unwavering with an air of quiet condemnation which only weakened his resolve by being overwhelmingly arousing to witness. 

The part of him that wanted to prolong this, the part that wanted to watch the boy breathe his last breath as he finally came inside him was practically screaming at him now, his mind on fire with one clear calming command;  _slow the fuck down_. But he couldn’t, it felt too good and that earlier urge to tear the boy apart quickly became conquered by the need to keep the boy  _alive_ , to experience every moment of his orgasm flooding inside him,  _together_. He wanted to share something with this kid and that fact, that starkly dire realisation that he indeed wanted to share anything with anybody, least of all this bruised and battered boy, to a great degree, completely and utterly terrified him.

The boy opened his mouth to speak just as Rick was forced to clench his teeth and close his eyes, his body now starting to feel submerged under ripples of a fierce climax which were fast becoming drowning waves of tense urgent sensation. The next few seconds were a blur of frantic exertion, utter elation and intense confusion. The kid had shouted out his name and upon hearing it, the boy had triggered his violent release, yet even when in midst of the throes of it he knew that  _wasn’t_  what the boy had said. The strange fact took residence at the outer edges of his mind almost biding its time, waiting to resurface once the post-coital fog had cleared, it sat on the backburner, _burning_.

As he neared the end of it, his desperate moans ebbed back into smaller gruffer groans, his movements slowing, his hips rolling against the boy in deeper more gradual thrusts as he pledged the last of his seed inside him in time to short sharp guttural gasps. But instead of collapsing down upon the boy he pulled away from him, his dick sliding out of the kid and slapping wetly against his thigh and he crawled back from him and stepped away from the bed, clearly rattled. He was shaking, mostly visible in his hands, caused by a combination of momentary exhaustion, faint blood loss, adrenaline and rising outrage.

 _“You think this is a fucking game?”_  He shouted at the boy, his raised voice a practical scream, its panicked resonance plainly echoing his building paranoia. _“How…how do you know my name…how long have you been planning this?”_  

Rick never gave people his real surname, he went by a range of aliases. There was no way the kid could know it. He paused for a moment and shook his head, no,  _wait_ , he wasn’t thinking straight, it wasn’t  _that_. He slapped the base of his palm hard against the side of his own head, as if to clear out the cognitive haze and finally achieved clarity. Immediately he scrambled over to the side table to retrieve his scalpel before descending upon the boy and placing the sharp edge of the blade to his bruised throat. “ _Tell me your fucking name.”_

_\---------------------------------------------------_

No sooner had he finished his mantra then the rocker noticed a subtle shift in the other man’s movements. His thrusts became more erratic and desperate, somehow deeper and more determined. Even in his drugged, blood deprived state it wasn’t hard for the musician to figure out he was about to be cummed in for the first time. Briskly shoving away all thoughts of himself and his injuries, his own twisted pleasures took hold as he was captivated by the effects of Rick’s climax coursing through him. The flush that crept into the man’s cheeks, how he scrunched up his eyes and bit his lip, the tremble of his muscles, the delicious sounds coming from his chest. 

Even better than the sights and sounds were the actual feelings within him. Rick’s cock seemed to thicken as it pulsed out his load, maybe it was because the younger man’s virginal ass was so tight, but he could feel every spasm of seed being thrusted into his body. The sudden additional warm lubrication as his cavity was filled with sticky cum was delightful and he even liked the way it seeped out and ran along his asscrack making him a complete mess. Fuck, if he wasn’t about to bleed out here on this bed, the young man knew he’d never want to see anyone else release inside of him. This man was gorgeous, terrifyingly menacing and brilliantly dangerous, the boy had never seen anything more sexy in his life. 

He’d give anything to have the physical capability of an erection, he was consumed with a need his body could do nothing about. He wanted to climax himself and he was quite surprised as he watched the man slow and pull out of him, that he wanted to cum all over his own chest as Rick cut him with his knife. What the hell had happened to him in the last several hours ? He felt like a different person than the naive boy who’d walked into this apartment. His faced screwed up into a pout as the man stepped away from him, he was definitely harboring distorted feelings of attachment to his captor and couldn’t figure out why the man almost looked to be recoiling from him. Had he done something wrong ? Was there something he was supposed to have done at the man’s point of orgasm to make it better? 

He was actually about to apologize for his inexperience and make needless pledges about a next time that would never come when Rick shouted at him. The formidable tone in the older man’s voice making him jump and grimace as he clenched back up with renewed fear over more physical abuse. “I.. uh.. planning? What?” he was thoroughly confused, yeah sure they had the same first name but what this guy upset about he couldn’t quite grasp in his state. His eyes went wide again as the man was abruptly back on top of him with a blade at his throat. He swallowed hard causing his adam’s apple to nick against the sharp edge. “R-r-rick.. my name is Rick too..” he sputtered out “I..I’m Rick Sanchez, we have the same first name so what ?” 

\-----------------------------------------

As the boy confirmed it a second time with a confused and starkly brutal honesty, Rick’s stomach lurched and he felt as if he might throw up. He stumbled away from the boy, being so close to the kid only further emphasised how identical they were in nearly all physical aspects.  _Christ_ , it was the entire reason he had chosen him, the entire reason he was here in the fucking first place. A number of explanations assaulted his senses all at once, rendering them all almost unintelligible, a swirling mass of urgent cognition that he had to pick out and pull apart while he stood staring at the boy in shocked silence. Was it simply a coincidence, was it a set-up, could the boy be lying to him, was he losing his mind, was the boy even here at all? Had he imagined all this, created his younger self to hurt and abuse, had he finally snapped?

At the back of all these thoughts the most unwanted one lingered, it had started as a whisper but was slowly beginning to build into a scream; did he have a Brother he’d never known about, had he just assaulted and fucked his own God Damn Brother? They looked alike, they shared the same name, but the kid was at least four years younger than him, how could such a thing have been hidden from him? He didn’t know, maybe it was mad to even think this way.

Walking away from the bed he collapsed down onto the sofa staining it red with a mixture of his own cold sweat and the boy’s congealed blood. He lit a cigarette and rubbed a furrow from his brow as he stared at the floor, the knife hanging limply from his hand as he took a few deep draws and attempted to centre himself.

 _“Stay on the fucking bed.”_  He barked as he sensed movement, his hand gripping around the handle of the knife until his knuckles whitened with the strain. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to even begin to express the muddle of bizarre and abhorrent thoughts now intent on filling up his head. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how these things happened, how people lost their minds; no gradual build up or weeks of strange unexplained occurrences, no you just woke up, as if from a dream to find yourself in the midst of madness. Most compulsive killers had some kind of mental illness, was it really that far-fetched to suggest the appearance of this boy was the most prevalent symptom of his own?

Finally after a few minutes of enforced silence he looked up towards the bed and caught the kid’s eye.  _“My name is Rick Sanchez.”_  He said flatly, extinguishing his cigarette with a sigh.  _“So either you’re fucking lying to me or we have a pretty fucked up situation here Rick…”_  It was the first time he’d known or used the kid’s name and it felt peculiar as it came out his mouth. “ _We look exactly alike.”_  He stated unable to hide the frustration and accusation from his tone of voice. “ _I’m confused Rick and I don’t like being confused.”_ The words were simply a statement of fact but the expression on his face conveyed it was without doubt a definite  _warning_.

\------------------------------------------------

The musician could do nothing but stare at the other man as he recoiled from him as if he’d just told him something vile. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. In the absence of the man’s solid member filling him up and sending waves of pleasure through his body he could focus on his injuries. He let out a low grunt as everything started hurting at once and he was completly distracted from Rick as his muscles started to tremble and the bile rose up in his throat as his body was starting to shut down. 

A splitting headache exploded in his head and he let out another groan of agony, shit this was the worst. The room was starting to spin and fade in and out so he closed his eyes as he shivered. He slowly started shifting to try and wrap himself up in the blanket he was laying on when he heard his captors voice bark and order at him. “Arrghhh..” He moaned out at first “I-I-I I’m fucking bleeding t-t-to death over here jackass, th-there’s no way I’m leaving this bed.” He cringed at the unintended double meaning of his words realizing he indeed wasn’t going to be getting off this mattress. His teeth were chattering and everything burned and stung and ached. He started to wish the man would just get it over with and put him out of this misery. 

With incredible effort he pulled himself up with the chains hanging out of the wall to sit up and get under the blanket properly. His body resolutely refused to maintain the elevated position however and he quickly fell down onto his side. Immediately grateful most of his injuries were on the other side, he curled up as much as his torn flesh would allow and clung onto the blanket like if he let go of it he’d lose all grip on what life remained within him. Stretched out sideways along the bed now, facing the other man on the couch, he stared across the room and tried to focus on his companion. The smell of the cigarette was utterly intoxicating and he moaned wantonly, wishing with all of his everything he had one too. 

He furrowed his brow when he heard that his attacker had the same name, if he could have sat up in surprise he would have. Well this was even more bizarre there’s no doubt there. Some twisted misconnect in his brain caused a slight smile to curl up his face when his captor called him by his name, it was merely a flicker and quickly replaced by perplexed terror. It didn’t take a genius to figure out a confused and irritated homicidal maniac wasn’t a good bunk buddie. “I-I-I.. I don’t know what t-t-to tell you” his teeth were still chattering as he spoke, his voice was weak and labored. “I-I’m not lying to you, b-but I can hardly p-prove it to you, I don’t have any ID.” He was slipping in and out of consciousness at this point, his vision darkening at the edges and he kept feeling like he’d just jerked back awake suddenly. He was in too much pain, had too little blood left and his heartbeat was too weak for him to really be the least bit concerned with the striking similarities between them. Eyes closed he attempted to swallow only to discover horrible cotton mouth “Y-you, you’re going to k-k-kill me anyway.. wh-what the fuck d-d-does it matter?

\--------------------------------------------------

As the boy spoke it became beyond apparent that the kid’s system was definitely going into shock, the boy’s breathing was becoming laboured, his movements slowing, his words slurring, his sweat beaded skin as pale as the shards of moonlight now streaming through the cracks in the window shutters. The young musician was right of course, what did any of it matter if he was going to kill him and judging by the state of the boy, he was, it seemed, already on the edge of expiry.

Rick felt a cold, gradual and embracing sense of panic slowly settle over him; if he killed this beautiful boy, how would he ever get to the bottom of this, the kid didn’t have ID, he’d checked,  _damn it_ , he was already kicking himself for factory re-setting the boy’s cell phone and destroying the sim card. At least then, with it in his possession, he might have been able to covertly track someone else down who could provide some answers in the boy’s absence.

It was probably coincidence, a simple and strange coincidence that meant nothing. He so badly wanted to believe  _that_  but every time he asserted it to himself, he felt a new wave of doubt wash the proposition away, replacing it with even worse suggestions. Such suggestions made him starkly aware that if he killed this boy, this other ‘Rick,’ the riddle of his name and mystery of his face would eventually drive him insane. Once he’d burned the body how would he even know that this boy had ever existed in any real sense at all, were a couple of dimly lit bloodied and bruised photos going to be enough to convince him he hadn’t spent an entire evening acting out fantasies of self-torture in his own fucking head.

Grinding the cigarette into the table top with a frustrated groan, he stood up and moved over to the bed to tower over the boy, peering down at him, watching the musician shake and shudder, seemingly obtaining no comfort from the soft cover he was clutching onto like a secondary skin. Without uttering a word he extended his arm forward to place his fingertips against the boy’s throat, just below his ear, to measure his pulse. The faint beat he found there confirmed what he had suspected; the kid had lost too much blood, the kid was dying in his bed,  _this_  kid that was bleeding all over his mattress and wrapped up in his blanket like a sick inflicted lover. None of the other boys had died like  _this_ , in his bed, in such quiet circumstance. The others had been executed in a moment of heated violent passion, a moment so sudden it forced them to feel the instant weakness, the instant loss of it all in a brutal blossom of fatal pain. What was happening here, with this boy, it felt entirely different and in acknowledging that difference Rick was thrown into anxious alarm; he didn’t _want_  to kill the boy but he couldn’t allow him to live, he’d seen  _too much_.

Shifting onto the bed, Rick pulled at the blanket, uncovering the boy so he could lie beside him, the whole bed was soaked with blood which seemed to flood into his every crevice as he shifted position to hold the boy close.

 _“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”_  He said softly, smoothing his palm over the shivering boy’s sweat slick hair to pull it out his eyes.  _“I wish you’d never met me.”_

\---------------------------------------------

Hearing the other man groan and get up made him pry his eyes back open to look around and see his counterpart standing over him. He would have gulped if he’d had any saliva left in his mouth. His eyelids were so heavy and he was so tired, he needed sleep. His eyes closed again when Rick reached out, all the man could do now was end it so he hardly cared to watch was he was doing. All of his focus was on still breathing, a task which was becoming increasingly difficult as everything just wanted to shut down and sleep. 

He whinned as the blanket was taken and a fresh torrent of shivers overtook him. His entire body quivered, the only upside being the intense chill woke him up slightly. When Rick came to position himself at the musicians side, the younger man eagerly latched onto him for warmth. It wasn’t so much any sort of act of affection as a survival instinct when he painfully and with great effort wrapped his arm around the other and pressed his torn, bloody ravaged body up against the older’s. He shivered in a very different way at the tender touch in his hair “I-I.. I don’t..” he heard himself whisper incredulously. He’d felt more alive in these final moments leading up to his death than all his life and maybe it was the blood loss, but in this moment he wouldn’t pick trading this experience for prolonged mediocrity. 

\-------------------------------------------------

I don’t.

Two small words that held such large meaning. Rick has no idea whether they had been said with sincerity or their utterance was simply the by-product of blood loss induced delirium, really, in that moment, he didn’t care, the sentiment had hit him hard regardless. Holding the boy to him, feeling the kid grow weaker and weaker in his arms, Rick feel a deep stab of guilt, in his chest, an emotion that admittedly he very rarely experienced. The difficult truth was that he couldn’t put the boy back together again even if he wanted to, he lacked the skill and the wounds were simply too deep, the kid probably needed some kind of blood transfusion at this stage anyway.

Bowing his head he breathed in the boy’s scent, but it had changed irrevocably, no longer could he smell the soap from the shower, the smoke on his breath, the sexual sweat on his skin, there was nothing now but the sharp stench of blood.  Slipping his hand around the boy’s jaw he lifted it to look into his eyes, they were dim and becoming more unresponsive by the second. As he felt the kid’s hand which had been clinging to his skin become too weak to hold him any longer a thought shot through his brain, tearing through everything else as hard and brutal as a bullet; _get him to a hospital_. The thought terrified him, if he did this, questions would be asked and there would be some kind of Police involvement, an investigation at the very least. Not only did the kid know his face as well as his own, he knew his _name_ and where he lived. After killing his neighbours earlier that evening, he’d already known he would have to leave the apartment but this act would put an urgent spin on things; he’d have to leave _tonight_.

His attention fell back onto the boy, the sight and the state of him conveying that he would have to make a decision within the next few minutes or the boy would surely perish in his arms. _“You’ve seen too much I can’t…”_ His voice cracked, conveying his inner turmoil, he felt desperately confused and was forced to take a deep breath in order to centre his thoughts. “ _If I save you Rick, I sacrifice myself, my safety, my secrecy…”_

_\--------------------------------------------------_

His entire body jumped as he quickly snapped back into consciousness again. Fuck that time he’d really fallen asleep. He felt the other man pull him closer but he was too far gone to question it, or to question anything. His brain was barely functioning outside of desperate attempts to keep his heart beating. He vaguely registered that Rick was saying something and the words swirled around in his ears a while before he was able to attach meaning to them. “s-s-save me?” He forced his eyes open to look up at Rick, surely he must be mishearing the man. He couldn’t keep them open long however and had one last glimpse of the conflicted look on his attackers face before his body gave out and he fell into the blackness of unconsciousness. 

\----------------------------------------------

As the boy blacked out in Rick’s arms, all of his rational arguments were immediately conquered by the feeling that if this boy died, he would regret it for the rest of his days. This was nothing like the others, he felt no awful joy as the kid lay limp in his arms, no tremendous thrill at the sight of so much of his blood,  _no_ , he felt only the sting of impending loss and the pain of burgeoning regret. 

Finally squaring the decision with himself, he jumped out of the bed, pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and immediately began finding material to bandage the boy’s multiple wounds. Administering a dose of epinephrine he continued to check the kid’s faint pulse and every now and again paused to listen carefully to his shallow faltering breaths to ensure the kid’s condition wasn’t deteriorating too fast. Transporting a fresh corpse was not a position he wanted to find himself in, especially when his apartment was covered in blood with two dead bodies in the corner, covered by a blanket like pieces of unsightly furniture. He looked down at the boy and immediately wondered whether he was going to fall into a coma, he wasn’t responding at all. Maybe it was best if he didn’t travel with him at all.

Calling up one of his drug contacts, he arranged for unmarked car to visit the apartment asking that they ensure the back seat be covered in plastic sheeting. The group that funded his lab were into far more than narcotics and the request was, much to his relief, immediately granted.

It was simply impossible to pull the boy’s tight black jeans over his injuries and so Rick wrapped the boy in the bath towel he had used earlier that evening. Carrying the kid in his arms he placed him down on the top level of the fire escape, the cold night air nearly blowing the musician’s towel off in the process. He couldn’t risk his business associates seeing the state of his apartment and assuming it was some kind of sordid sex game gone wrong, too many questions would be asked.

Spotting the car he whistled down to the burly pair of men who had just stepped out and seemed to be more interested in lighting cigarettes than helping him. After issuing some hushed angry words, he finally got one of them to climb the fire escape and help him carry the boy down.  _“Drugs, bad reaction.”_  He stated as they reached the bottom and the other man swung the car door open.  _“I agreed with Michael you’d drop him at Lennox Health, Greenwich Village.”_  The two men gave him a look that said “sordid sex game gone wrong” and nodded to indicate that was exactly what they’d been instructed to do.

Laying the boy in the back seat, one of the bored looking men went into the boot and pulled out two large containers of fuel then handed them to Rick with a knowing smile. Rick nodded gratefully and proceeded to run back up the fire escape as the car screeched off down the street.

After washing and packing a small bag of clothes and critical belongings Rick embedded a small incendiary device between the two corpses in the corner of his apartment, rigged a remote detonator and then proceeded to soak two floors of the building with petrol.

Pocketing the kid’s lighter he slipped out the window and hastily headed down the fire escape. When he was at a safe enough distance he lit a cigarette, pressed a button and watched as a bright raging ball of fire consumed his apartment, blasting out the window with a bang before spreading to the apartments below in a flood of orange flame, dripping down the building like glowing lava, the fire growing taller, wider and bolder with every passing second. He wanted to stay and watch as the structure was reduced to no more than charred brick, hot embers and cooling ash. To stay and watch the remnants of a life he could no longer live float on the air and smear and smash on the ground but there was no time, he had to leave.

To be continued...


	3. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We rejoin our characters a week after the incident at Rick's now burned down New York apartment. The young musician has survived his ordeal and is in hospital but must now survive questioning by the Police during which he realises not everything is as straightforward as it seems. Meanwhile young Evil Rick has relocated to London. The younger Rocker Rick also heads to this same city but despite the fact both men cannot stop thinking about the incident and its strange aftermath they have no idea they are destined to meet again in even stranger circumstance. 
> 
> (Chapter 4 to follow)

**CHAPTER 3**

A ringing filled the young Rick’s ears, a piercing tone that made him squish up his face and roll his head side to side. The movement made a burst of pain blossom in his head that seemed to instantly radiate out to cover his entire body. He groaned and tried to rub his face finding his limbs like lead and difficult to move then he opened his eyes. More pain passed through his body and a blinding light filled his vision. He started blinking rapidly to adjust while trying to figure out where he was. He couldn’t remember anything, it felt like his brain was full of thick fog. His eyes started to focus and he recognized the hospital room with its open shades and the rhythmic beeping of equipment hooked up to his body. 

The rocker looked down at himself, the IV stuck into his arm and the heart monitoring equipment attached to his skin were first to be noticed. Next he pushed down the light sheet covering his body and hissed sharply at the angry gash along his thigh. “Fuck!” He tenderly rotated his hip to get a better look at the neat row of sutures holding his flesh together and his mind started to clear a bit. Oh shit, that guy. The fucking madman who looked like me, why the hell am I still alive? He was thoroughly confused about waking up in a hospital rather than dead. He slowly eased his arms out of the meager dressing gown he was wrapped in to assess the rest of his damage. He had another tidy row of what must have been 60 stitches up his chest and it looked like they had attempted to rebuild his nipple, but failed. The soft flesh of his cock looked to have been grafted and he had surgical staples holding his shoulder together.

With a jolt he remembered his face had also been cut and his hand shot up to feel the line of tiny stitches holding the skin around his lips together. The musician was just about to try and get out of the bed to find a mirror when an older nurse walked into the room. “Oh no you don’t sweetie! Stay in that bed.”

He popped a brow and looked over at her, falling back onto the pillows with a moan “How did I get here?” He questioned with a very parched voice.

“Aww, here have some water.” She poured him a small cup and helped him drink some before answering. “You were dropped off, and rather strangely in fact.” She bit her lip unsure how much to tell the boy. A quick glance of his injuries and she decided he’d dealt with worse than difficult news. “When I say dropped off, someone plopped you into a wheelchair and shoved you through the ambulance entrance. You’ve been unconscious 4 days, after 8 hours of surgery. You needed a blood transfusion and expensive repair to some organs.” It seemed once she had started she couldn’t be stopped “Honestly dear you’re lucky to be alive, we didn’t think you’d wake up” she put a reassuring hand on his good shoulder. “Whatever happened to you?” She asked full of what sounded like genuine concern.

“I-I..I ..” He didn’t want to answer her, didn’t want to delve into the memories just yet. “I’m not sure” he lied. 

“Oh you poor thing..” it looked like her heart was breaking for him, something the rocker found very odd indeed. The nurse took a deep breath as if preparing herself to do something she dreaded and closed her eyes a moment. “You were very clearly attacked and I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but it also looks like maybe you were raped. A psychologist will be coming to meet with you now that you’re awake to provide you with counseling and support and there’s a team of police investigators waiting for the go ahead from your supervising physician to come speak with you.” She brushed some hair out of his face “But you need to gather some more strength first, I’ll notify the doctors that you’re awake.”

He spent the next several days doing little more than eating and sleeping, the pain often waking him screaming with agony and flashes of memories. By the third day it seemed he had either gathered enough strength or the police wouldn’t be deterred anymore, because he was told they would be coming later that day to speak with him.

\------------------------------------------------------

Detective Inspector Moran brushed some crumbs off his jacket lapel as he headed down the hospital corridor, a lukewarm coffee clutched in one hand, his case notes in the other, barely looking where he was going as he continued to read through the catalogue of injuries the John Doe he’d been assigned had experienced only a week earlier. Normally they’d have sent down a pair of street beat officers to question the boy, but Moran had been working a number of missing persons’ cases for nearly a year now and the young boy fitted the profile. It was a loose lead admittedly but under the current circumstances it was the best one he had. Draining his coffee he crushed the cup, threw it into a nearby bin and nodded a hello to a pretty nurse who met him at the ward reception area.  _“Looking for the John Doe you got in here ‘bout four days ago.”_ He flashed her his badge, knowing that his plain clothes usually warranted the production of some kind of identification.

The nurse smiled,  _“Yes, but he have a name now, Sanchez, Rick Sanchez.”_

The Detective opened up his notepad and scribbled it down. “ _Anything else.”_

_“I’m afraid not Detective, in all honesty, we’ve not asked him too many questions, we thought it would be to let the Police department do that, room 3B, just down the hallway.”_

Moran nodded, acknowledging they had done the right thing and headed straight down the corridor. Tapping on the door he entered and flashed the boy inside a warm sympathetic smile.  _“Hey kid, my name’s Detective Inspector Moran, I’m with the New York Police Department…”_  He grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it across the floor next to the bed then slowly sat down on it.  _“You can call me Patrick.”_  He added, trying to cultivate the start of some kind of trust.

 _“I’d like to ask you a few questions Rick, if you don’t mind.”_  Damn, the kid looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept in weeks, pale, pasty and worn.  _“How about we start with everything you can remember about the night you were brought in.”_  He checked his case notes,  _“…about 8 days ago I believe, take your time, there’s no rush…”_

\-----------------------------------------

The kid jerked awake at the sound on his door. He’d only drifted off as he hadn’t been sleeping well. After a solid week of laying in a bed and hardly moving his body couldn’t seem to get tired enough to fall into a deep sleep. Either that or it was the fact that every hour someone was poking or prodding at him and the place was so fucking clean it stunk. He rubbed his face and tried to push himself up at the sight of the inspector, groaning with the effort as his shoulder protested being used. Instantly a flash ran through his mind of him trying to pull away from that other Rick by the chains in the wall and he shuddered. He shook his head to push away the memories of being taken in such a way. 

He watched the man drag over a chair, squinting up his face at the sound it made as it scraped across the linoleum. His senses were still so sensitive. Patrick? Seriously, another Rick, Jesus Christ what was going on lately. “Hey” he mumbled. He hated cops on the best of days, being stressed out from a near death experience and an over long hospital stay didn’t improve those feelings much. He pulled his tray over to grab the small can of gingerale the kitchen had sent up with his meal and sucked on the straw as the other spoke. “Mmm you smell like cigarettes” he oddly responded closing his eyes briefly. What he wouldn’t do for one of those right now. He took another sip of the soda and set the can down, grabbing the pudding cup instead. “I don’t care, though I don’t know how much I can tell you.” 

He yanked the lid off the cup and licked the chocolate off his thumb as he screwed up his face trying to remember “The night I was brought here? I was unconscious when I was dropped off here, or so they tell me.” Fuck had that all really happened in a single night? He hadn’t actually thought about it much, spending most of the past week in a restless sleep. He scooped out a spoonful of pudding and ate it, he also couldn’t risk getting himself arrested for his own illegal drug and squatting activities. “I was at a party of sorts I remember that.” Shit maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that, him and that other Rick had caused a bit of a scene. He didn’t want to be identified as the rocker that had been shacking up in that abandoned house. “No a club, it was a club. I remember now” he forced a chuckle that sounded authentic “I had this beautiful blonde on a velvet couch.” He gave the inspector a smug look “I’ll level with you, I was pretty fucking drunk that night.” He hoped he’d be able to use that as an excuse to be a bit hairy with his details. 

\----------------------------------------------------

Moran smiled as he heard the young man pick up on the fact he was a smoker. He’d tried to stop for years and even with two nicotine patches on and a pocket full of gum to help with cravings he’d still lit one up this morning. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a packet of nicotine gum and handed it to Rick. “Don’t tell the nurse.” He added, giving the boy a conspiratorial wink.

Having read over the case notes, the Detective had expected to find the kid in a withdrawn state, fearful and utterly broken by the experience, he had, after all, nearly died; it was a miracle he had survived. Yet here he was seemingly enjoying a chocolate pudding and recounting the tale as if he was telling a drinking buddy about his most recent lay. Moran hid the surprise from his face and instead looked down to scribble in his note book.

 _“You have the name of this club son…is it, was that the place you met your…”_ He searched for the appropriate term, deciding attacker wasn’t much use, it victimised the boy and it was often hard to get someone to tell the truth when they felt vulnerable _. “…when you met the person who did all this?”_

He paused for a moment. _“Just start from the top kid, tell me everything you remember.”_

_\---------------------------------------------------------_

The kid cocked his head at the pack of gum, the stuff always tasted like chalk, but nicotine was nicotine in this place so he took it gladly with a smile and popped a piece right into his mouth, chewing it eagerly. “Thanks” he said returning the wink with a nudge at the air. 

He sighed deeply relaxing back into his pillows and elevated bed as he could already feel the nicotine working it’s incredible effects. Fuck, he’d thought that cigarette back at that apartment had been his last, and here he was chomping away on concrete flavored gum. His eyes landed on the tv in the corner of the room, staring at the talk show that was on, but not taking any of it in, as he tried to think of an answer to the guy’s question. “Uh it was club Hell I think, or maybe Jerkies.” The two places were one above the other in reality, so it was plausible he could have been in one or both at the same time frame. 

Thinking about that moment the inspector asked about however sparked a shift inside him as he remembered that face standing stoic in the crowd watching him. His heart rate started to increase, which was made obvious thanks to the monitor and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He’d stopped chewing on the gum, staring at his blanket covered feet at the end or the bed. Suddenly it seemed his mind felt like reliving everything, but in slow motion. He watched his toes wiggle beneath the fabric as the memories of chasing the captivating man through the house and willingly following him off into the night played out in his mind. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes “Y-y-yeah.. he sort of.. well I mean I was intrigued by him, so I sort of followed him.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Moran knew both clubs well, although he hadn’t been in either of them for going on ten years, not since he’d got married, then divorced. Writing it down in his notebook he glanced back up as he heard the incessant beeping of the heart monitor start to increase its frequency. Looking from the spiking display over towards the boy, it was clear the kid was uncomfortable, sweat was beading across the kid’s forehead and his legs were squirming under the tight sheets. 

The Detective reached over and placed a comforting hand on Rick’s arm. _“It’s okay, you’re safe here.”_ He reassured him.  _“I need you to try hard Rick, try hard to remember what happened, I think…”_ Should he tell the boy about the case he had been working on, Christ, all those sleepless nights, all those crazy connections that made his commanding officer question his sanity, could he even describe it without it sounding like he was grasping at straws?

 _“…I think there may be other instances like yours Rick, I think you might have been the only one to escape, I have twelve more Rick, twelve more boys who have gone missing in similar circumstances, same age, same height, same build, same….”_ How could he put this without sounding weird. _“Same kind of handsome.”_

He took a deep breath and let go of the kid’s arm, his expression taking on a more serious edge.  _“I’m going to need a description of the guy, can you give me that Rick, it’s very, very important.”_

\--------------------------------------------------

The young man slowly turned his head to look at the inspector as he spoke about the other 12 boys. Fuck, the guy hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the rocker was number thirteen. He suddenly remembered he had the gum in his mouth and started to chew on it again as his hand came up to run through his hair. “Same kind of handsome?” Was this guy coming onto him? Surely not. He shook his head.

“I-I.. I don’t…” for some reason he was finding himself hesitating to comply, like he didn’t want to provide this cop with the details he was asking for. If that other Rick got caught, the musician would never see him again. His head fell back with an expression of shock, why the fuck would you want to see a murderer again? He didn’t understand it. His attention snapped back to the man he had momentarily forgotten was in the room. “He was my height..” he started tentatively “about my build, but stronger than I am.” he left out that the other had definitely been older, his fingers started to twirl around his blue locks of hair in a nervous habit “his hair was blue like mine too..” fuck this was making him sound like he’d attacked himself.

“He had this icy stare that obliterated all other sensations, the room seemed to fade into darkness leaving only his eyes staring up at me, calling me out to him…” He jumped as he jerked himself out of the strange description when he felt some familiar arousing surges of blood pumping south he didn’t want happening with a cop at his bedside. “Uhh I mean, th-that.. that’s about it really, I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

\----------------------------------------------

The witness looked conflicted as he gave his description; Moran assumed it was due to underlying mental trauma and reminded himself to cut the kid some slack.  _“About 6 3′’ then…and muscular”_  he mumbled jotting the details down on his notepad.  _“Blue hair?”_  Now  _that_  could prove useful; there was security footage linked to the second missing boy, he noted down a reminder to check it again when he got back to the office.

He looked up from his pad as Rick started to recall his interaction with this man, normally the people he interviewed recalled things of a particularly sensory nature, the colour of a sweater, the smell of a basement, the sound of a voice, the recollection of a dripping tap. The details this kid was providing him with were far more poetic in nature and he wondered if perhaps the kid was romanticising the brutal encounter as some kind of coping strategy.

“ _You mentioned a room, Rick.”_  He replied quietly as the boy seemed to snap out of the memory with a visible jolt.  _“Tell me about the room Rick, how did you get there, what kind of building was it, what part of town?”_ Moran sat back in his seat eager for answers but wary not to pressure the kid too much and risk him closing down.

\-----------------------------------------------------

 “I did?” He had already lost track of which things he’d said out loud versus kept to himself “I don’t know man, it was a room.” The questioning was starting to get under his skin “An old factory of some kind or something.” He shrugged he really didn’t know much about the building, his eyes and attention had been glued to the other Rick as they traveled. “We took the subway..” he added before rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He blushed as he looked at the inspector “Honestly .. uh… I was, that is um.. “ He was trying to find a way to say horny as sin and all over the other man. 

“I-I was kind of .. distracted on the way to his place, if it was even his place, I don’t remember much from that part of the evening outside of how he tastes.” his blushed deepened and he looked away shocked at what had just come out of his own mouth. When he spoke again it was facing the windows to hide his scarlet face. “There were pipes along the ceiling in the room, and we went in through the fire escape, so I don’t think he lived there or anything.” He picked the ginger ale back up finishing it with slurping sounds from the straw.

\-------------------------------------------------

Moran looked over his notes….a factory… _his_  place…something wasn’t sitting right with him  _“Wait, are…are you saying it was a converted building Rick, was it an apartment or an abandoned factory I…I’m unclear.”_

The fact they had used the subway could prove to be very useful indeed. _“Which station did you use to get on to the subway, which station did you alight at, what time was it?”_  If he was lucky he could find security footage and perhaps find images of the two of them together.

Moran’s mouth twitched as the kid came out with a strange comment about the _taste_  of his attacker. The way he was speaking about his aggressor made the Detective immediately begin to suspect one of the kid’s friends or lovers had done this to him and he was trying to cover for them, by inventing someone else.

 _“Pipes along the ceiling.”_  As the Inspector wrote it down, he sighed, there were a lot of converted loft spaces all over the city and nearly all of them had pipes running along their ceilings.

 _“Did you…”_  The nurse who had been so nice to him when he had arrived was standing at the doorway wearing a less than hospitable expression.

 _“You about done with him Officer?”_  She asked, folding her arms, clearly signalling visitor hours were resolutely over.

_“I just have a couple more questions to…”_

_“Then you’ll have to come back tomorrow Detective_.” She replied firmly, moving towards him to place her hand on the back of his chair clearly signalling he should rise from it and leave.  _“He still has a lot of recovery to do and I am sure this has been very stressful for him.”_  She smiled warmly at the kid.

Detective Moran closed his notebook with a ‘snap’ and frowned at the nurse who was at this point making him feel like a chastised schoolboy.  _“Fine I’ll come back tomorrow.”_  He muttered, standing up and placing the chair back into the corner.

 _“Thanks for your help Rick.”_  He smiled at the boy and shrugged on his jacket. As the nurse left the room he bent his head and spoke in hushed tones.

_“Is there anything else you feel you should tell me kid, y’know, before I leave?”_

\---------------------------------------------------------

 “I.. uh, it was a converted building I guess. It looked like a factory, but it was a proper apartment inside.” He truely didn’t remember the subway stations “It was late, after midnight.” The guy’s questions we’re getting too specific for his tastes, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before he started asking more about the rocker’s living situation and his own past that would lose him this cozy hospital bed and warm meals in exchange for a prison cell. 

He was grateful when the nurse came in and told the guy to leave, but still on edge knowing he was just going to come back. He’d probably come again the day after that, and again until he’d wrung all the information he could out of the musician. Feel he should tell him? What did this guy think he had some sort of coursing guilt here? He shrugged “I don’t know, I don’t know why he left me alive I thought for sure he was going to kill me, I don’t know where he is now, or anything really useful to you. I wanted the guy and followed him and walked right into a trap got cut up and forced and woke up here. There really isn’t much else to tell you.” It was a long shot, but he hoped the guy would lay off him chalk him up to be another dead end. 

The inspector gave him a look that clearly stated the exact opposite and opened his mouth to counter the kid but the nurse cut him off. “Oh no you don’t I said he needs rest, you can see him tomorrow..” she started ushering him towards the door putting a finger up to silence him when he tried to interject again “Ut No ! That’s enough now, good evening detective inspector.” Once she had him out of the room she came back to fiddle with the kids machines and take his vitals. “Aw you poor thing you’re all worked up, how about I go and find you some ice cream eh?” With a warm nurturing smile she swept from the room. 

The nurse was right, the cop had gotten him all worked up. His mind was racing with the implications of the guy coming back and questioning him. The house he squatted in was full of stolen property and he knew he’d be linked to several assault charges if it was looked into enough. Shit shit shit. He couldn’t have the man come back, he needed to get out of there. Feigning sleep when the nurse came back he waited until the shift change at midnight and took advantage of the inattentiveness of the staff just coming on to slip from his room and make his way to a locker room. Moving wasn’t easy thanks to his injuries but he managed to find a hoodie and a pair of slacks several sizes too big and covered his face with the hood. Finding a knapsack he filled it with bandages and antiseptic and snatched a bottle of vicodin from a vacant nurses station before ducking into a staircase and narrowly avoiding a security guard making rounds on his way to the main lobby. 

He took a deep breath of the cool fresh night air that washed over him when he finally got outside. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how sterile and offensive the air in the hospital had been. He tightened the hood up around his face and slunk off in the night. His first thought being to get some cigarettes and a drink, then to head to that old house to collect his belongings and destroy any evidence he was there before likely leaving New York City entirely. 

\-------------------------------------------------

**London:**

  _“You look like you could use some company.”_

Blue eyes, but not quite blue enough, mousy brown hair; mundane, too clean, too calm, too collected.

 _“No, I’m fine thanks.”_  Rick watched the boy shuffle off, it was the third time he’d been approached in less than half an hour. Still, in a bar like this it was to be expected, Camden was hardly known for its subtlety and although he’d not realised it when he’d initially walked through the door, this place was definitely a gay bar. Only a year away and so much had already changed, previously the pub had been one of his favourite haunts; dark corners, decent whiskey, good music,  _perfection_. His eyes searched the room, his expression one of growing disdain; all of its character had been stripped back, replaced with garish neon lighting, sleek shining metal surfaces and cold uncomfortable plastic seating, it felt like a crude cross between a 70’s disco and an abattoir, except the music was Dub Step and there was nothing remotely worth killing.

Just over a month and a half had passed and in that time he’d found himself a decent flat to rent near the canal and had managed to re-establish old contacts to revive his narcotics business, which was now flourishing since the MET had tripled their number of successful drug raids in the city.

As much as he enjoyed New York, with the enormity of its buildings, its larger than life displays and its never-ending neon lights illuminating the greatest concentration of all slices of human life in one slumber-less city, he had still missed London. Undoubtedly London could be a cruel and taunting mistress but if you treated her with respect she could show you things no other city could, her ability to match your every whim was only surpassed by one thing; the level of cruelty she could inflict without reason or purpose.

Although born in America, he had always considered London his true home, it was where he’d gone to University, where he’d lost his virginity, where he’d set up his first lab. He’d only left after the Brother of a boy he’d killed had started putting up missing posters and had asked him some probing questions. It had been his first flirt with murder and it had been a messy one, he’d learned a lot since then, honed his craft. His hunger for it remained, growing greedier by the day, but he’d found himself unsatisfied by the array of potential victims that frequently crossed his path. None of them seemed right, all of them  _flawed_ , none of them could replace the longing he had for the one that got away, the musician who nightly haunted his dreams and daily played on his mind;  _Rick._ The local Manhattan news had said very little about the attack, but enough to tell him the kid had survived it. Staring down at his drink an image of his old apartment formed in his mind’s eye, the bright crimson splashes of blood, the soaked bedspread, the look of shock in the kid’s eyes as he penetrated him… _fuck_ ….He shook his head as if to shake the memory out of his mind and then downed the rest of his glass before slamming it back down on the table with palpable frustration.

Rising from his seat he nodded to the bar tender and headed out into the mid-day sun, it was only noon and already he was drunk. Lighting a cigarette he headed over to the canal and sat by the bank for a while watching a group of homeless alcoholics argue over a bottle of vodka and a shy young couple hesitantly make out. Glancing down at the water he immediately found himself wondering what the boy, the  _other_  Rick, was doing right now;  _noon,_  New York was five hours behind; the kid was probably sleeping. Slipping his hand into his pocket he retrieved his hip flask and downed half the contents. As the warmth of the whiskey nicely dulled his senses, he stretched out across the hard ground and closed his eyes, his mind now entirely focused on ignoring the very strong likelihood that the kid was probably wrapped up in the arms of another, arms that didn’t deserve him, arms that he’d cut off at the shoulder joint given half the chance. He’d hoped that given time his obsession with the boy would pass but to his horror it only seemed to grow, the kid represented the only living person who had ever seen him as his true self and that fact was indeed a lonely one to acknowledge.

Feeling he was being watched Rick looked up and caught the eye of a guy sitting on the opposite bank, a cute blonde little thing, no more than nineteen he guessed who was suggestively nodding his head towards the public toilets. Rick nodded once, stood up and headed straight over; if alcohol wouldn’t drive the musician from his mind, maybe this would, even if it was only for the few minutes his brain and his cock were both too blown to think.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The young Rick had a hell of a time getting back to the abandoned house he was squatting in after breaking free of the hospital. His wounds were far from healed and he was still very weak. Once up into the attic space he used as a bedroom he collapsed onto the filthy mattress and passed out for what may have been more than a day, he couldn’t really tell. He was woken by the sound of boots on the attic stairs and thinking it was that other Rick, he bolted upright jerking awake from a dream like recollection of his ordeal. He sighed when he realized it was Raul, his drummer. He was the closest thing to a friend the musician had and had come by everyday waiting for Rick to resurface. 

“Jesus fucking christ ! What happened to you boss?” The burly man, just slightly older than Rick was shocked over the state he had found the band leader in. He crossed over to the raggedy mattress and sat on the end to get a better look over his injuries. 

“I finally walked right into a spider’s nest Doulie, just like you said I would. But spare me your ‘I told you so’s’ alright? I fucking lived through it, I’m fine.” Rick wheezed out as he tenderly laid back down. He’d stripped at some point so there was nothing hiding his wounds. 

Raul yanked away the small rag of a blanket covering his friend and hissed at the angry looking stitched up marks “You mean you barely fucking lived through it, fucking hell mate. Who was it?” 

“Some guy from that last gig.” Rick kept the same name coincidence to himself unsure if he’d dreamt that up in some blood loss delirium. 

“The one you told me about from the week before? That took your lighter?” Raul had seen his bandmate rush off after the guy the first night.

“Yeah, fuck man the guy was gorgeous I just wanted him. I wasn’t thinking of anything else..” just the memories made the rockers blood speed back up.

“Thinking with your dick as usual.” Raul laughed.

Rick managed to laugh as well, though it caused surges of pain “Y-yeah, when do I not?” 

“Looks like you’ve been cleaned up good though, were you in hospital?” Raul had never seen his boss look so clean.

Rick sat back up at this question a look of concern over his face “Yeah! This fucking guy  _told me_  he’d killed a dozen boys before me, all in the same damned way and yet somehow I ended up in a hospital and was left to live. A little detail that didn’t go unnoticed by the cops either.”

Raul looked concerned now too “Oh shit, you had a detective come question you didn’t you? Fuck, I get why you got out of there.” he said with a glance around the room at the stolen goods. 

“Right, it wouldn’t have taken him long to pin my crimes on me I’m sure.” Rick found and lit a cigarette, falling quiet for some time thinking over his trauma. “Doulie, I think he may come back for me.” 

“Fuck man.” Raul knew Rick well, he knew when to question his friend and went to sit and leave him to his thoughts. When the bassist spoke again the drummer agreed with him. “Why else would he leave you alive and even if he doesn’t that cop probably will if you’re his one big lead, detectives are stupid persistent with that shit.” 

“I’ve got to get out of the city.” He decided watching the wind blow out the window “Or better yet, the country.”

“You’re always saying we’ve got to get to London.” Raul added with a smirk “I know a guy who can get us papers, and if you sell all this shit we’ll have more than enough money. But you’ve got to heal more first, we’ll set off all sorts of security systems if you try to board a plane in this condition.”

Rick laughed again “You’re right about that. Alright get in touch with your man, I’ll rest for a week, but then I want to get moving as soon as possible. I’ll need your help to start moving some of this stuff” He gestured to the room “We can also sell our equipment, we can’t exactly travel with a drum set and amps anyway.” 

“Sure thing boss.”

With Raul’s help, Rick managed to heal up pretty well within that week. His friend brought him food he’d need to heal and helped him tend to his injuries, keeping them clean so they wouldn’t get infected and stealing him more pain killers when needed. They sold all the stuff and in just over three weeks had emptied the house completely and just in time. A pair of cops had been prowling the grounds outside one night and the pair of musicians were forced to hide out around the corner watching the uniformed men until they left. Deciding to be thorough, Rick and Raul set the old house on fire that night to be absolutely sure there was no evidence of them having squatted there with stolen goods. 

A month and a day from his attack Rick was standing in a rundown apartment in the outskirts of London. The place had a landlord, but the guy lived in France as was apparent by the condition of the building. It was obvious he didn’t visit his property much. It had large holes in the floor, crumbling wallpaper and missing glass in several windows and smelled of mildew, but it was also cheap and reminded Rick of home. The building was mostly empty except for a tough pair of girls he quickly recruited for the missing members of his band. They used what little money they had left to get some instruments and slowly started to rebuild. 

As the second month was coming to an end, Rick’s nightmares were beginning to lessen and he’d wake up screaming in a cold sweat only once a week. Still he saw the blue hair of his slightly older counterpart everywhere. His peripheral vision delighted in tormenting him, making him jump out of his skin only to realize it was some random jerk and not the tall, dark, mysterious, gorgeous man that had abducted him.  He heard the man’s voice whisper to him in the dark alleys, felt the sting of his touch remembered in his flesh long healed and jerked off endlessly whenever his body recalled the deep stretching penetrations of the man’s cock. He both was terrified to ever run into that Rick again and hoped with all his might that he would. 

But that was highly unlikely being in London now, he told himself as he walked into a random bar for the first time. He’d been trying out all the pubs around his flat, trying to find one that ‘fit’ when he’d had another scare, this time thinking a tall man probably in his 60s was the other Rick. “Look out old man” he snapped at the guy who reeked of whiskey and almost knocked him over. Thoroughly distracted by that brief encounter he didn’t do his now customary scan of the room, and went straight to slide onto a bar stool instead. Lighting a cigarette to calm his now frazzled nerves he ordered the drink that old man had filled his senses with and quickly got lost in thought wondering how long his was going to be imagining his attacker in every face. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

A month and a day from his attack Rick was standing in a rundown apartment in the outskirts of London. The place had a landlord, but the guy lived in France as was apparent by the condition of the building. It was obvious he didn’t visit his property much. It had large holes in the floor, crumbling wallpaper and missing glass in several windows and smelled of mildew, but it was also cheap and reminded Rick of home. The building was mostly empty except for a tough pair of girls he quickly recruited for the missing members of his band. They used what little money they had left to get some instruments and slowly started to rebuild.

As the second month was coming to an end, Rick’s nightmare’s were beginning to lessen and he’d wake up screaming in a cold sweat only once a week. Still he saw the blue hair of his slightly older counterpart everywhere. His peripheral vision delighted in tormenting him, making him jump out of his skin only to realize it was some random jerk and not the tall, dark, mysterious, gorgeous man that had abducted him.  He heard the man’s voice whisper to him in the dark alleys, felt the sting of his touch remembered in his flesh long healed and jerked off endlessly whenever his body recalled the deep stretching penetrations of the man’s cock. He both was terrified to ever run into that Rick again and hoped with all his might that he would.

But that was highly unlikely being in London now, he told himself as he walked into a random bar for the first time. He’d been trying out all the pubs around his flat, trying to find one that ‘fit’ when he’d had another scare, this time thinking a tall man probably in his 60′s was the other Rick. “Look out old man” he snapped at the guy who reeked of whiskey and almost knocked him over. Thoroughly distracted by that brief encounter he didn’t do his now customary scan of the room, and went straight to slide onto a bar stool instead. Lighting a cigarette to calm his now frazzled nerves he ordered the drink that old man had filled his senses with and quickly got lost in thought wondering how long his was going to be imagining his attacker in every face.

==============================================================

The older Rick swirled his whiskey before throwing it back and replacing the glass on the table top. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his mobile and checked for texts; still nothing. Deciding to forgo another drink he stood up and headed towards the door, deciding that he’d call the guy when he got outside. As he slipped on his jacket, an old man, one of similar build to himself stumbled directly into his path and fell against him.  _“Jesus Christ old man, watch where you’re fucking going.”_  He growled, gripping the guy by the shoulders to forcibly straighten him out before turning and pushing him back into the bar. He stood for a moment fumbling in his pockets then retrieved a battered pack of Lucky Strikes. Slipping one between his scarred lips he lit it with the stolen zippo lighter that had fast become one of his most prized positions, pushed open the door and stepped outside.

The summer air was warm and so he sauntered along the street a little, enjoying the sense of dusk descending before stopping to lean against the wall and call his guy. He smiled as his contact confirmed he was just around the corner then headed in that direction. Finally reaching the junction he spotted James and followed him down a nearby alleyway, as the guy turned he quickly slapped a handshake into the man’s hand simultaneously depositing a bunch of cash.

 _“Long time no see.”_  James replied, pulling him close simply to slip an ounce of grass inside his jacket.

 _“Same time next week.”_  He replied with a grin, removing himself from the guy’s embrace.

_“Of course.”_

With that they departed from each other’s company, they weren’t friends, this was a business transaction and he preferred that it be done quickly. Heading back out onto the bustling streets he crushed his cigarette under heel and immediately lit another. In truth he had no plans for the evening and it was time to decide whether to head home or go for another drink. Passing by a bar he noticed they were playing The Stooges, immediately he took it as a good omen and headed straight inside into the dark bowels of the dimly lit bar.

\---------------------------------------------------------

The younger man’s glass had barely been placed down in front of him when he heard the drunken grumbling of that senior he’d bumped into again. He sipped from his drink, licking some of the whiskey that had gotten caught in the still fresh ridges of the scar he now carried as he looked across the dim pub towards the sound. His eyes went wide before his brow narrowed trying to see better through the gloom and ascertain if he was seeing what he thought he was. Surely his brain was just playing tricks again, he reasoned taking another drink and turning away. But his attention snapped right back to the other men when he heard the more sober of the two speak. No. It can’t be. 

Fucks sake, he couldn’t see right in this dark room. He kept his eyes on the man as his heart started to race as his mind flipped back at forth at record speed. Don’t look, stay where you are, it doesn’t matter, even if it is him, he doesn’t see you, you’re fine stay here. What if it is him? He’ll find you eventually, you should go get to him first. What if he finds your flat and comes for you in your sleep? If you know it’s him you can be prepared. Sighing as his mind seemingly made itself up he tossed back the rest of the drink and slid off his stool in the corner to follow the edge of the room to get a better look. Keeping himself hidden by other patrons, his dread only increased with every step he took as the man came more into view and he was less able to deny who was standing there. 

As the man lit a cigarette with what was unmistakably his lighter the rush of emotions was so strong it almost made the rocker fall over. ‘Shit, fuck, shit, shit.” He muttered to himself as he fell down into a booth with the shock, still watching the other Rick. Shit what does he do now? Leave the city again? Ahhh fuck, he both wanted to flee and wanted badly to be face to face with the other man, to get him in the position he’d held the musician in. Damnit there was no time, they guy was leaving! He jumped up to his feet and snatched his sweatshirt up as he saw the other Rick round a corner from the windows. Slapping some money on the bar he rushed out of the pub after the other before he lost him. 

Once in the street a quick scan and he had the other in his sights again he took a deep steadying breath. All right calm down, he told himself, if you go causing a scene charging off down the street he’s sure to notice you. He crossed to the opposite side of the street, slipped into his hoodie and drew the hood up over his head, slouching to a height that kept him lower than the other people on the street and using the reflection in the windows to keep an eye on the other Rick as he followed him. The musician pretended to be reading a cafe menu when the man stopped to make a phone call, actually watching his reflected imagine closely, he was so consumed with the mere presence of his attacker that he wasn’t planning for what his next steps were. It was pure morbid curiosity driving him as he put the menu down and started off back across the street when Rick went down an alley.

A quick jog through the traffic and he leaned against the edge of the building, bending a knee to place his foot on the wall and light a cigarette of his own. He listened over his shoulder at what was obviously a hushed conversation and the thought occurred to him that maybe this guy was picking up a new victim. An anxious sweat started in his palms that was mingled with a bizarre feeling he couldn’t quite explain. He was filled with a need to prevent such a thing from happening, but not out of a sense of do-righteousness, no. The drive was something much more selfish, more basic, internal,  _primal_. This bastard was his, there was no way he was going to let him pick up some random asshole to mame, fuck and kill. They had unfinished business. 

With shuffling of his boots on the sidewalk, the musician quickly turned to avoid being seen as Rick came back up the alley towards the street. He adjusted his hood needlessly and as the man walked right behind him without noticing the rocker felt all the hairs on his body stand on end before a shudder tore through him. He fell into step behind the man, at a safe enough distance to stay out of sight and he kept stopping briefly to look at things to not raise suspicions. As they neared a bar with music pouring out of it the younger man felt convinced the other was out hunting and after waiting a moment, followed the guy, stepping into the crowded, noisy, smoke filled room. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

Rick entered the bar, ordered a whiskey then slipped through the crowds towards the rear of the establishment. Sliding into a leather booth he placed his glass down and fought the urge to light a cigarette, only a few bars in the city allowed their patrons to flout the smoking ban and most were shitholes, this one had a sign on the wall,  _fuck sake_.

Taking out his zippo lighter he ran it along the material of his trousers watching it spark and then snapped it shut and rotated the cold metal in his fingers over and over again as he considered his surroundings. He felt hollow, but for the first time since he’d started hurting people, he had no idea what he needed to fill that expanding vacuum, it gnawed at his guts like starvation, disrupting his concentration and keeping him on edge. Looking up he noticed a boy was staring at him from across the room, their eyes met, dark hazel locking with bright blue, the blonde boy smiled and bashfully turned away and Rick felt a small flicker of attraction, was this what he needed? He was uncertain. 

Refusing to look away he continued to stare at the boy, calculating his position, determining his next move. In truth he felt very little, but it was  _something_  and he hadn’t felt anything since Rick; whatever had happened that night, he felt ruined by it, he hadn’t found real peace in any moment since. As the music changed he felt a slow shiver creep up his spine, it took him a moment to place the [ **track**](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DHj6UNM8WANU&t=NThmZmFhYjg4Mjk3NWI4NjJkYzA4NmRlODlhMzJkZDUzNWRjNzY2ZCxBMjBMVFBZdg%3D%3D) but after a few seconds memories of the bare chested boy in his loft apartment, kicking off his dirty boots and accepting a drink from him shifted around and into him, permeating everything. He looked up and caught the boy’s eye again and flashed him a sly smile, maybe this was what he needed, there was no doubt the blonde would make a beautiful corpse and he was unlikely to come across anything better tonight, wasn’t he?

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Hey you can’t smoke that in here!” A mousy woman snapped at the rocker as he walked into the room. He’d forgotten he even had the cigarette in his hand and glanced up at the irritating postings indicating the ban. Normally he would have snapped back, or thrown the butt in her scowling disapproving face, but he was keen to not make a scene. He flashed her an apologetic smile and put it out under his boot with a shrug “Sorry, I’m new here.” He said in his purest New York accent. “Psh American” she muttered to her companions and turned away. 

Stepping away from the woman and the front of the room he quickly searched for his counterpart fearing he had given him the slip until he noticed him at a table in the back, playing with the musician’s damned lighter. He went to the corner of the bar, hopped up onto a stool and ordered a beer. From his position he was mostly hidden by a group of people standing to listen to the music, but he was able to see the other Rick well enough. He sat and watched him, considering his options trying to decided what to do, he couldn’t very well follow the man forever. 

When the music changed it prompted him to sit up straighter as it triggered memories he was well accustomed to relieving at this point. He rotated his head to stretch his neck and try to keep control over himself and his emotions. The last thing he needed right now was to either get anxious or horny. Neither a panic attack nor erection would help him much at the moment. Fuck this indecisiveness! He grabbed his beer and was just about to stand up to go over and boldly plop down in the booth with the man when a blond kid seemed to get the same exact idea. The musician froze half standing holding his beer and watched the man slide into the booth right next to the other Rick and start talking to him in hushed tones. 

His heart started to race. This was it; that kid was now prey just as the bassist had been and had all sorts of horrible things in store for him. The rocker was trapped in a rut of confliction, part of him wanted to sit back down, let the older Rick have at it, do what he does and hope to never see him again. Yet another part, that was surprisingly strong, was utterly transfixed and captivated by this dance and completely unable to look away from this alluring predator at work. 

\---------------------------------------------------

Rick sipped his drink as the young blonde Benjamin, talked, a little too much for his liking if he was honest, he’d probably have to gag this one early on. The kid was wittering excitedly about some art project he was working on, stuttering over his words and Rick had neither the interest nor the inclination to care about how much the boy’s last artwork had sold for, after all, after tonight, after they were done, he’d never paint anything ever again. Externally he was fully engaged in the conversation, eyes bright with interest, nodding lightly at appropriate points. Internally, he was studying the boy’s expression, gauging his honesty, measuring his self-confidence and monitoring his spiralling levels of anxiety as Rick moved just that little bit closer. The boy was a bundle of nerves, continually straightening up in his seat, smoothing down his hair, fidgeting unnecessarily and talking incessantly, talking himself up. Rick, as always, gave very little information back about himself, just enough to intrigue the other, just enough to appear like there was nothing he was deliberately hiding.

The attraction was there, undoubtedly Ben was a beautiful boy, but beyond that he felt very little, this one lacked grit, seemed a little awkward in his own skin, restrained, unbruised and too eager to please, maybe he’d lived too little or not lost enough, in short, he was nothing like Rick. He nearly scowled as the thought settled in his mind, these comparisons did nothing to help him and yet he was powerless to stop them. Ben had only been living in London for a few weeks and it was  _that_ fact that made him suitable prey; that was what he had to keep in mind, nothing else.

After scanning the room for CCTV and feeling satisfied he wasn’t being filmed, he threw back his whiskey then began to slowly snake his hand around the back of Benjamin’s neck to gently pull him closer, his expression one that indicated he was impressed with the boy in order to settle him and put him more at ease. The suggestion to go back to his place was so readily accepted it nearly put him off, Rick, although flattered, was slightly disappointed, he liked the chase and if the prey lay down for him too easily he usually punished them for it later on. He’d already sensed this one was going to break too easily, but in truth, he wanted something to break, something to hate, he had no intention of feeling anything for this boy, just as it should be.

Standing up to leave, he allowed Ben to slip his hand around his waist and they walked out through the double doors together. The sun was now setting and as they walked up the street, Rick stopped to light a cigarette. Looking up he spotted two Police Officers walking towards them and just as the young blonde noticed them too, he dragged Ben into a nearby alleyway, concealing them both by pinning the boy up again the wall behind a large industrial bin. The boy looked understandably confused and noticeably more hesitant and so, without warning, Rick wiped the look off his face with a deep kiss to taste that burgeoning suspicion and force the boy to swallow it back down.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

When it seemed as though the other Rick wasn’t about to take right off again, young musician slid back onto his stool and pretended to watch the sporting event on the tv over the bar as he actually watched the pair in the corner with the edges of his vision. He finished his beer, but kept sipping from the empty bottle as cover, not wanting to have another. He felt he needed to keep his wits about him as he was still unsure what he was going to do with this situation. He all but jumped out of his skin when a beautiful brunette sat down next to him and started chatting him up. Barely looking at her for fear he’d lose track of the other Rick, he threw some gruff grumbles in her direction until she finally got the hint and left calling him an asshole for her trouble. 

He watched her plump ass walk away, quite unable to help himself, but movement in the other side of the room snapped his attentions right back. He kept his head facing forward as the pair stood to leave, mind racing again. Should he let them leave and hope to never see the guy again? That’s what any sane person would do. The man had only been out of his sight for a minute for his brain to make up it’s mind, he had to follow them. Jumping to his feet he took off out of the bar after the pair, heart racing and mid shouting at him for following a murderer and his intended victim out into the streets. He still had zero clue why he was doing this, or what he hoped to achieve, he just had a compelling need to keep this other Rick in his sights. 

He skidded to a stop when the other Rick did, realizing only then that in his eagerness he’d very nearly gotten close enough to be noticed. He tucked himself against a wall and also noticed he was practically panting, his body was so coursing with adrenaline he was shaking and he open and closed his fists to deal with some of it. His entire body was charged and ready to do something extreme, but he had no idea what. Fuck he was too close, he could smell the man’s cigarette. As the smoke filled his nostrils the image flashed through his mind of being handcuffed on the madman’s bed, naked and terrified over the prospect of being impaled on the man’s cock, as he extinguished his cigarette on the bottom of his foot. He shuddered at the memory as he saw the other Rick and the blond boy slink into an alley to avoid a pair of policemen. 

The musician stood frozen in place, leaning against the wall, chest heaving with anticipation, the beating of his heart and chaotic firing of his nerves mounting into a defining castrophany compelling him to act, but not telling him what to do. His cognition it seemed had shut down as his instincts were swiftly taking over his system. The cops were just returning to their car and as they drove off he found his ability to move once again and shot off to the corner the other Rick had disappeared behind. He could see nothing but some garbage and a row of large bins and cursed himself for hesitating so long. To satisfy the warning alarms going off in his brain, he bent to retrieve the knife he kept hidden in his boot and stepped into the alley to stealthily walked towards the bins to investigate. 

As the pair came back into view, and the young Rick saw the older one deeply kissing the boy something snapped. The last of his rational thought was overtaken by a blinding primal rage and he sprung forward with a burst of speed and strength closing the gap between them quite quickly. “You fucking bastard!” He snapped venomously lunging for Rick and yanking him off the younger boy with surprising force. But rather than shove his small blade into his assailant’s gut, the rocker rounded on the blonde boy and in another fit of unanticipated, unplanned movements he had grabbed the kid by the hair, forced him straight up against the wall and dragged the knife across the youth’s neck, slicing his throat. Only when the spray of the kid's blood landed on his face did he un-grit his teeth and his expression changed to abject shock. “What the fuck?!” He yelped as he recoiled, dropping both the boy and the knife and taking a stumbling step backwards. He looked at the boy’s body as he slid to the ground, then to his blood stained hands and then, finally, to the meet other Rick’s face. 

\--------------------------------------------------

The blonde boy was grinding against him, his face now wet with his kisses, their tongues intertwining over and over again. Rick could feel his heart jumping like a frantic animal in a heated cage, a fluttery nasty feeling which only grew as the blade in his pocket pricked his leg as if issuing a reminder to get on with it, to take the boy  _home_.

The next few moments happened so quickly they occurred almost as a blur, a series of perceptions that ran their strange course with little of his own involvement. It started with the faint sound of a shoe, a slow scrape of gravel that signalled they were no longer alone. Then the shock of blue hair emerging from behind one of the bins and the sight of his lost doppelganger holding a blade with a look of total and utter outrage staining his features. In truth Rick has resigned himself to the fact he would never see the kid again and to see him now, like this, made the boy feel more like an apparition conjured from his mind as opposed to anything real or made flesh. There was no time to think, only time to react, clearly the kid had come for his revenge; it was the only explanation. Rather than use Ben as a human shield or attempt to disarm the kid himself, he felt his limbs go slack, losing all resistance, overcome with a strange acceptance that he probably, no,  _definitely_  deserved this. If anyone was going to take him down, if anyone was going to  _stop_  him, it should be  _this_ kid, it should be  _Rick;_  he’d felt they were fated from the start, maybe this was the reason why.

As Benjamin was wrenched from their embrace, his own eyes fluttered shut preparing himself to feel the blade, expecting it to slash his throat or penetrate his chest but the impact never came, instead what he heard was a tense and brutal scuffle. Opening his eyes they instantly fixed upon the sight of the young musician wrestling the blonde up against the wall and in truth his mind couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. Rick looked furious, frenzied and  _feral_ and as he pulled the boy’s head back and ripped the sharp edge of the blade across Benjamin’s throat he instantly recognised the look in Rick’s eyes; the kid had lost control of himself. The sight of it, the chaos, the blood, the rage and violent passion instantly made him recall his first kill, a blonde, one very much like the boy now falling to his knees gurgling out his last panicked silent screams. Hazel eyes met with piercing blue and in that moment he watched the awful realisation of what Rick had done consume his features in an expression of stark disbelief and complete terror.

He stood for a moment utterly dumbfounded by the fast flicker of events he’d just witnessed. As the silence between them settled something within him, something well practiced, kicked into action, burying the adrenaline and finally replacing it with practical thought. He said nothing, instead moving down to the boy on the ground to check his pulse, the cut was deep; he was already  _gone_. Pulling off Benjamin’s jacket he tied the arms around the wound to spare himself from splatter, after wiping all traces of his saliva from Ben’s face. Pocketing the bloodied blade he stood up and lifted the lid of one of the giant industrial bins before stooping to heave the boy’s heavy still warm corpse up and into the bin, slamming it shut.

Cautiously he approached Rick, the kid looked like he was in shock, slowly pulling some tissues out of his pocket he spat on them then started to tenderly wipe the kid’s face clean, before taking each of Rick’s hands in turn and pushing them into the boy’s own pockets, hiding the bloodied sight of them. He paused for a moment, there were so many things he wanted to say and yet all of these things were easily conquered by the feeling that he wanted to kiss the boy. As a shadow passed over them indicating people walking by the alleyway, his flight response kicked in and immediately he pressed his hand hard against the small of Rick’s back. He turned flashing the kid a harsh look, one that demanded obedience, the same look he’d given the boy on several occasions during their previous encounter.  _“We need to leave…..now.”_

\---------------------------------------------------------

As he stared at the quickly dying boy with his bloody hands held out in front of him, time seemed to slow to a standstill. His brain went blank and he only heard a ringing in his ears as he watched the slightly older Rick tend to the now lifeless body. He was frozen to the spot in a state of shock over what he’d done and so offered no assistance whatsoever when his counterpart heaved the body into a bin. He’d killed someone. He’d actually fucking killed someone.

And damn if it didn’t feel  _good_.

It had all been over with in a flash of course, but as the realization settled over him that he’d just taken a life, the emotions that accompanied it were incredibly unexpected and seemed to pool in his gut in a way that made him quite uncomfortable. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though as Rick approached him and he laid eyes on that face properly for the first time since passing out beneath the man. The rocker had an unexplainable urge to collapse into the man’s arms as he tenderly tended to his face, yet also an understandable desire to punch him at the same time. His fists balled up in his jacket and an insulting shout brewed in his chest just as the other spoke and gave him a stern look that invoked unquestioning compliance. He bit his lip and nodded, knowing he was right. “Right..” he agreed falling obediently into step behind the man. 

His bewilderment over his actions was still too strong for him to question where he was being led or the fact that he was once again following a serial killer off to an unknown location unarmed. His mind was still too numb to react beyond an instinctual response to save himself and cling to the one person who had experience with this sort of thing. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

As they walked, Rick calculated, there wasn’t time to consider the strange shroud of emotion which had settled over him upon seeing the kid again, if he picked at that scab now it would bleed heavily and he’d be too busy tending to it to notice he’d opened himself up to being caught, opened them both up to it. His pace was casual, relaxed even but inside him there was a sense of slowly descending panic caused by the fact he’d just spotted bright red flecks of blood still spattered across Rick’s lower jaw. They needed to get off the street, somewhere without CCTV, passing by a diner, a typical greasy spoon kind of place, he realised it was their best option. Grabbing the boy’s upper arm he pulled him in with him, as they entered they were hit with the smell of fried breakfast, baked beans and coffee, while looking for a seat he pulled Rick into him to speak to him quietly.

 _“Go into the bathroom and wash your face and hands……thoroughly.”_  He pushed the boy towards the gents before sliding into a seat.

 _“What can I get you sweetheart?”_  An older woman approached, expectant for a food order. Rick looked up at the brightly illuminated pictures above the cash register all highlighting images of food that looked entirely too colourful and plastic to be edible.  _“Two sausage butties and two teas.”_  He replied, without spending too much time thinking about it.

_“Comin right up.”_

As he watched her leave he was hit by the fact he didn’t even know if Rick ate meat, in fact in real terms he knew very little about the kid. Still, given the state of him it would be unlikely the kid would want to eat anything anyway, he was probably throwing up what remained of his soured stomach contents in that bathroom right this minute.

Pulling his mobile from his pocket he dialled a friend.

 _“Andy, got a problem, had to deal with him._  He listened for a moment. _“Exactly. I need help with….clean up, industrial bin, Connect Lane, just off Holbart Road. Don’t worry, our little enterprise remains safe as houses_.” Disconnecting the call he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Being central to the business of manufacturing complex drugs came with its perks, namely meeting a lot of unscrupulous people who would do terrible things for the right amount of money. As long as you continued to pay them, you could trust them. He had no intention of telling Rick about the arrangement, it suited his needs better to let the boy think the evidence of his crime would be found, it would foster his compliance, well hopefully in the short term at least.

As the plates of food and mugs of hot tea were dumped down in front of him, his eyes drifted over to the bathroom door, forcing him to realise that there was every likelihood the boy might have done a runner. Sipping his tea he decided that should the boy return he would take him to his lab rather than his apartment, he still didn’t know how Rick had found him and he needed to be careful. Equally as important was the fact he would need to incinerate the kid’s clothes, after all his jacket pockets would now be deeply stained with his victim’s blood. There he would have time to breathe and time to ascertain if this boy was also a threat to his own safety, there he could deal with him accordingly without being disturbed.

\------------------------------------------------

When Rick grabbed his arm it felt like he’d yanked the younger man from a trance. He’d noticed little but the repeating cracks in the sidewalk as they had travelled, too preoccupied with his inner shock over what had just happened. Unable to shake the image of the young blonde kid’s shocked face as the rocker sliced through his skin. He was amazed at how easily it had all happened, with little thought and minimal physical effort the boy’s life was ended.. “What?” He had barely registered they’d walked into a diner or what the other man had said. The shove at his back pushed him forward several steps, he saw the restroom sign and figured out what he was being told to do. Hands still shoved in his pockets fiddling with the inner seams, he wandered over into the washroom and locked the door behind him. 

His first instinct was to lean against the door and slide down to the floor, bringing his knees into his chest and just sit there, incapacitated and staring at the filthy tiles on the opposite wall. After several moments he heard someone enter the ladies room next door and he realised he couldn’t sit there forever, so pushed himself up with a disgusted groan at the puddle of something wet he’d put his hand in. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself and instantly noticing the blood that remained on his face. He turned on the tap and cleaned up, palming the water across his face and through his longer hair to slick it back. He must have washed his hands 15 times trying to clean away an invisible stain of the act they’d just committed, but as the water turned cold he realized it was futile and he sighed heavily. 

Ignoring the drying machines, he wiped his hands on his jeans and looked at the row of toilets. He was surprised he didn’t feel like retching, but as he left the bathroom and was assaulted with the scents of food and coffee it occurred to him that was still a distinct possibility. A quick scan of the place and he found the other Rick and slid into the booth across from him. He slouched with the weight of his inner stress and his face screwed up at the food as his hand went to hold his stomach and the other pushed the plate aside. The tea however was a welcomed sight and he picked up the cup and cradled it in both hands like it was his saving grace and brought it up to rest against his mouth. His focus adjusted away from the hot steam curling up from the mug to land on Rick sitting across from him and the sight brought him out of his mind palace. Taking a sip, he lowered the cup but still held onto it tightly, staring blankly at his companion and not knowing what to say, or even thinking he had the capacity for speech.

\----------------------------------------------------

They sat in silence as he ate but he hardly tasted the food; his mind was far too busy attempting to process what had just happened and what was  _still_ happening. Wiping his hands with a napkin, he took a sip of his tea and finally looked over to meet the bank stare of the other. He wanted to ask how the boy had found him, he was sure that if this kid could track him down the Authorities could do so equally well. He glanced around the room immediately aware they were surrounded on all sides by eager ears,  _no_ , this was not the place for  _that_ conversation.

Other questions he couldn’t ask equally plagued him, why had Rick killed that boy, it had made no sense, did they know each other; was it all part of some elaborate scheme? Why wasn’t the kid trying to strangle the life out of him right now, what was going on here,  _really_ going on? He looked away realising he’d been staring at Rick in silence for some time now, locked in his thoughts.

He quietly sat there, aware that he should say something,  _anything_ to break the silence that had awkwardly settled between them, it certainly seemed like Rick had no compulsion to talk, perhaps the boy was still in shock.

 _“You’re looking well.”_  He finally ventured, already aware of the irony of the statement considering the state the kid had been in the last time they’d been in each other’s company; a  _beautiful_  state, fucked and hanging on the edge of death. He shook the thought from his mind, thinking about that, right now, was dangerous, he’d been obsessed with this boy for months, ‘the one that got away’ and now that they were sitting across from one another his compulsion to have him again was growing dangerously urgent. He caught himself wondering whether the boy had been fucked by anyone else since he’d taken his virginity and then coughed as if worried the other hand overheard his thoughts,  _Jesus_ , this wasn’t helping matters at all, he needed to be planning their next move, not thinking about this for Christ sake.

He glanced down toward his mug of tea and noticed the shiver on the surface of the water; his hand was shaking, he quickly set the mug back down to mask it and waited on a response.

\------------------------------------------------------------

His face screwed up as the other spoke like he’d forgotten English. He shook his head slightly, finally putting the cup down and swallowing hard, willing his voice to work again. On his third attempt he finally got some words out “..as are you.” he found himself automatically responding not really processing what he meant. It felt weird to be talking, as if he hadn’t done so in days. The simple response got his brain moving again however and he started to piece together his situation. 

He was in a diner, check. With a serial killer that had nearly ended his life after raping him, drinking tea after fleeing his own first murder. Check check. Okay all completely normal… what the actual fuck! The anxiety threatened to flare right back up again, he needed a cigarette and looked around to see if this place was part of the non-smoking ban or seedy enough to get around it. Noticing the chef was flipping pancakes with one hanging from his mouth he sighed with relief and reached into his pocket to locate his. 

The room was full of people chattering away to their companions, or the wait staff in terms of the single patrons seated at the counter and he too realized they were drawing attention from their contrasting silence. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, not because he realized it was stupid to do so in this setting, but simply because he wasn’t ready to do so yet. His mind searched for something else to fill the void with as his eyes found the hard features of his rugged companion and he had to rotate his head in response to an ill timed shudder that ran through him when his brain chose this moment to remind him what it felt like to be spread open over this man’s cock. 

He quickly looked out the window to distract his thoughts away from the last time he’d been with this man and picked up his tea again. “Crazy weather here huh?” He mindlessly commented looking up at the sky, before his eyes snapped back to Rick’s “Nothing like back home in New York.” He added merely curious for the other’s reaction to such a statement. He wanted to know how the hell they’d both ended up in the same city again, wanted to know a hundred things, but hardly knew where to start. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

“ _I’ve never been to New York.”_  He replied, his voice polite but with a warning edge to it.  _“Always wanted to visit mind you, I’ve heard great things.”_ The word ‘great’ was elongated as he failed to hide the sinister edge of the comment.

He kept staring at the boy’s split lips, it was healing nicely and the scar now greatly resembled his own. Reaching forward he paused and then continued forward to touch the marred flesh with his fingertips, the expression on his face one akin to wonder. Quickly he came to his senses and withdrew his hand. He had no control over himself when in the company of this boy and it was utterly frustrating, mainly because even after all this time, his obsession with him defied all explanation. It wasn’t something he understood, only something he  _felt_  and in truth Rick usually felt very little, it was one of the reasons he sought out extreme experiences and the _only_ reason that he killed.

He wanted to reply with an off-hand remark, something about football or politics, something mundane that people would dismiss instantly if overhead, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t reign the bizarre feelings in and something needed to get out.

_“Why did you follow me here, Rick?”_

\--------------------------------------------

The young rocker’s brow popped up as Rick denied ever being in New York. Unsurprising he realized, he wasn’t sure what else he’d expected really. He sipped his drink and held the cup suppressing a reaction to the man’s hidden context. He was looking out the window, but watching the other from the corner of his eye. Why was he staring at him? He turned to face him properly as he reached forward and his head snapped backwards recoiling at first then freezing in place. 

His eyes fluttered shut at his counterparts touch, so brief and insignificant, yet it shot through his system and ignited a craving for more. Opening his eyes again he slowly licked his lips to taste when they’d just been touched. The increasing urge to be under Rick’s control again further pushed his shock over what happened away, allowing his brain to function better. 

He swallowed hard and put the cup down in his saucer “Here? I think you know why I followed you here.. where the ..” he realized his voice was far louder than it should be and he paused to lean forward and lower it, but still speaking very fast “Where the fuck else was I supposed to go? I-I.. I’ve never ..” he glanced around the diner then back at Rick “It was the first time I’ve ever.. done what, what you do.” he finished falling back into the booth again. He watched his tea go cold and considered the question. Why had he followed the man in the first place he really didn’t know, he was as puzzled over that fact as his motive for taking that boy’s life. Neither made a lot of sense to him, pure emotional gut reactions, things he’d never really acted on before. 

“What the hell do we do now?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Rick hadn’t meant the diner, he had meant London, he needed to know why the boy was here, needed to know the answer to that more than any of his other questions, the importance of which seemed to pale in comparison to the fact Rick had somehow inexplicably managed to find him.

“ _Shhh….”_ He chastised as the boy continued, wary of what he might say next in such a crowded place. “ _I didn’t, I meant…forget it, this isn’t the time or the place.”_ He mumbled angrily, furious with himself for asking the question in the first place.

 _“Now? Now we leave.”_ He announced, standing up and laying some money down on the table. As they walked out of the diner he hailed a black cab, when it pulled up he turned to Rick. _“Get in.”_

They spent the cab journey in silence, cabbies had big mouths and most of them had equipped their cars with some form of CCTV these days so it seemed better to say nothing. It was a blessing in disguise really, in truth he didn’t know what to say, he was still paranoid about the boy’s motives and equally alarmed at his own need to be protective of him. A few carefully placed words in the right ears and this boy could easily tear his entire life down, _again._

 _“You two twins?”_ The bald headed cockney piped up between his random warbling’s about too much rain, too much dog fouling and not enough pension provision.

 _“No.”_ Rick replied coldly, keeping his gaze fixed out of the window and offering nothing more, already annoyed by the fact their similar appearance was drawing unwanted attention to them. The driver’s words had made him think about the moment he had discovered they shared the same name, a riddle that still remained unresolved, festering in the back of his mind, demanding an answer.

They had travelled from the East End to the Thames Gateway, where Rick’s lab was based, the air conditioning had been poor and the journey overly long due to grid locked traffic so by the time they arrived Rick’s nerves were even more frayed. Paying the taxi driver Rick stepped out and lit a cigarette and then pulled an elaborate device from his pocket to unlock the equally elaborate security system. Inputting several codes into the door system it finally opened with a hiss of sterilised air.

Inside the lab itself was fairly small, about the side of a 7/11 store, but instead of stocking candy and magazines, it was filled with barrels of chemical, large copper vats and a wide array of chemistry glass wear. At the back was a large incinerator that was already burning something and next to it a sofa for nights where Rick had to sleep over to keep an eye on the mix depending on its stage of development.

Locating the spare set of clothes that he always kept here, he found an all in one white hazmat suit and threw it at Rick. _“You…we, are covered in DNA evidence, we need to burn it, all of it.”_ He declared before immediately beginning to strip.

\-------------------------------------------------------

His eyes went wide at the suggestion to leave and he watched Rick get up, looking up at him from the table before his body jumped into motion. He took one last soothing sip of the tea, grabbed a slice of bun from his otherwise untouched plate and followed the other man out of the diner.

The cab ride was awkward and long, emphasized by the fact that his mind decided to point out all the differences between this journey and the one on the subway back in New York. The young musician forced out auto replies to the cabbie lots of ‘yeah right?’ and ‘no kidding’ in the right places to keep the man talking, at least it was a distraction from the heat of the body next to him.

Getting out of the cab the rocker looked the building over with a sudden sense of dread as Rick paid for the taxi. What the fuck was he doing here?! He was walking right back into this man’s web. He took several steps down the sidewalk almost intending to flee from him, before a flash of the blonde boys dying eyes hit him and he remembered he needed this guy. He sighed heavily and shoved his hands in his pockets. He watched with horrified interest as his counterpart unlocked the building, there was no way he was getting out of here alone. A thought he was quick to shrug off. He’d spent weeks hardly thinking of anything else, this apparently was where he wanted to be anyway.

“Charming..” He commented looking around the lab when they entered. Nothing like the flat he thought he was going to die in, not even a bed. Pity. His wandering eyes snapped back to Rick when he was thrown the coveralls, he held them up to look at it in a I’m-not-wearing-this way before conceding that Rick was right. He put the garment down on a nearby table and shrugged out of his jacket, looking at it fondly not wanting to burn it “Do we have to? Everything? Can’t I just wash it or something?” He was still missing his first one this man had apparently also burned along with the building back in NYC. He lifted his shirt and peeled it from his body, it was stuck to him from his cold sweat and once off a shiver ran through him. Letting the fabric fall to the floor he slipped from his jeans easily enough and still not owning any underwear was now standing in the lab naked. His hands automatically tracing some of the scars this man had given him as he always did when he stripped, remembering the touch of his steel, he reached for the coveralls and paused “Shouldn’t I wash or something too?”

\-------------------------------------------------------

Rick ignored the boy as he asked whether all of this was entirely necessary, clearly the kid hadn’t quite grasped the gravity of the situation. Slipping off his shirt, he found a blonde hair and was instantly reminded of the taste of the dead boy and the sight of the young musician slitting the throat he’d been kissing only a few moments prior to that. He still hadn’t established the boy’s motives, something he was keen to do as soon as possible.

He’d just pulled on fresh underwear when the kid’s second question caused him to pause, he stood there for a moment holding a pair of black jeans in his hand unable to move. Despite averting his eyes he was well aware the boy was completely naked now and he didn’t trust himself to take in such a view, if he looked at those scars he’d want to touch them, if he touched them, he’d want to taste them and if he tasted them, he’d want to tear them open all over again.

 _“There’s only one sink in here and its tiny, you’ll have a tough job trying to wash yourself with that.”_ He replied casually, not daring to look up at the boy instead choosing to slip his jeans on and buckle his belt. He picked up his spare shirt only to discover it was another pair of boxers, typical, no socks either, jeans alone would have to do, he had little choice. Picking up his shoes he gave them the once over and was satisfied he’d avoided stepping in any blood, he decided he’d save them in order to wear them home. Gathering up the discarded items of clothing, bundling them up into his arms, he walked over to the incinerator, eased the door mechanism open with his elbow and chucked them into the furnace. Slamming the door shut he slapped his hands together as if clapping off dust then walked over to the sofa and collapsed down into it. Reaching behind the sofa he retrieved a bottle of whiskey and took a slug from the bottle, it was only after he’d downed a quarter of the bottle that he felt ready to look up and make eye contact with Rick.

 _“First of all…”_ He stated, as if laying down the terms of a treaty. _“If you try anything I’ll snap your fucking neck as easily as a kitten_.” Hazel eyes locked with piecing blue and he felt an overwhelming compulsion to touch the boy, he washed away the need with another large swig of whiskey. _“Secondly, you’re going to tell me what you’re doing here Rick and I don’t mean here…”_ He gestured around the room _. “I mean…”_ He held the bridge of his nose, calming himself in an attempt to avoid bombarding the boy with questions. _“What do you want from me…I never thought I’d see you again and I..I am struggling to understand all this.”_

_\----------------------------------------------_

The young rocker stood holding the coveralls up to look at them with a disgusted look on his face. Even in this situation, having just committed his first murder and effectively on the run with a man who’d nearly killed him, the boy cared about what he looked like and did not fancy wearing these. He let his arms fall to look over at Rick after his comment about the sink. Just as well, he hated to wash his hair anyway. Once he’d caught sight of the other man clad only in boxers the musician let his eyes roam over every inch of the man’s skin, wishing he knew what it all tasted like. He made a disappointed sound as Rick slid himself into his jeans and fastened his belt as if he was locking a safe the rocker desperately wanted the combination to.

A sigh of relief escaped him when Rick discovered the second set of boxers and he set to coveralls down and slipped into them while Rick went to the incinerator instead. He’d throw the hideous garment on only when they left this place, he wasn’t going to sit around in something like that, he felt awkward and uncomfortable enough. “Try anything?!” he snapped “What the fuck do you think I am going to do?” He didn’t have an answer to that himself, the revelation that his companion thought he might try and attack him or something was unexpected. Though he guessed it made sense, a man like this was likely to be suspicious of everyone even if they hadn’t just followed him and killed his hook up. He put his hands up “I’m not trying shit alright, keep your panties on.”

His confidence and calm was starting to return, now that he was in a safehouse of sorts. He didn’t know squat about this guy, but he knew enough to know they had to be safe in this place. Joining the slightly older man on the couch he crossed an ankle over his knee and leaned back on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t really know..” he admitted, not having enough energy for any kind of convoluted conversation and deciding to cut to the quick “I didn’t plan any of it. I-I.. I just saw you and felt compelled to follow you..” he ran his hand through his hair, clearly feeling awkward expressing this to the man. “I came to London thinking I was putting an ocean between us and you walked into the same fucking pub I was sitting in. I think the better question here is how the fuck did you find out where I was?”

\-----------------------------------------------------

 _“Watch your fucking mouth kid.”_  He snapped back at the ‘panties’ comment only now noticing that the kid was dressed in nothing but a pair of  _his_  boxer shorts. 

He listened to the boy as he spoke further about their encounter but found himself wholly distracted by the sight of Rick’s naked skin. His collarbone once adorned with deep purple sucked bruises, now showed no traces of his touch, the kid’s shoulder had somewhat healed but the skin was thick where the stitching had been less than perfect and a thick red line still marked out the deepest area of the wound. It seemed the surgeons had made a poor job of attempting to reconstruct the boys nipple which was still carved in half and raw looking. A mark somewhat akin to a healed bullet wound stood as the only testimony to the blade that had pierced the boy and come devastatingly close to puncturing his lung. Without realising, he lowered his head in an obvious attempt to glance at Rick’s thigh to view any signs left of the large wound he’d shoved his cock into. To his relief he found it to be obscured by Rick’s leg….that was the last thing he needed to dwell on. Rick had stopped speaking but he could still hear him whispering in his mind…. ‘P-please don’t .. please don’t f-fuck me dry…’ More memories, God damn it why couldn’t he concentrate on the task in hand. Dropping his cigarette into the ashtray he pressed his palms against his eyes in an attempt to push the intrusive thoughts from his mind.

 _“I had no idea you were here_.” He growled through gritted teeth. “ _Why would I…”_ His fists bunched until his knuckles turned white.  _“Why, why would I have bothered to take that pathetic little blonde twink home if I’d know you were here…huh?”_ Sure, it was a logical point to make, but it gave away far more than he’d intended.  He shoved the whiskey bottle back into his loose mouth before it could betray him any further, but after another strong swill of alcohol he found he simply couldn’t stay silent. 

_“So you even know why you killed him?”_

\----------------------------------------------------------

He popped a brow as he watched the man look him over, clearly taking in the sight of his healed traces of their last encounter. As the other’s roaming eyes lowered across his body he felt a shiver run down his spine remembering the way the man had looked at him while tied to the bed. He rolled his shoulders and instinctively a hand came down to smooth across what had been the deepest and most devastating of his injuries, holding onto his thigh, he left his hand there, where he could also press his arm into his groin while other equally vivid memories ran through his head. He shifted his leg and clenched his thighs around his wrist before realizing this was likely very obvious and he jumped up to his feet to pace the room. 

He avoided looking at Rick when he spoke, mindlessly walked around and looked at the equipment on tables instead. To hide his surprise over the slightly older man’s statement he picked up a vial of some sort of liquid to look at and trying to calm his blood before any traveled south. That sentence shouldn’t have excited him so much. Maybe he should put the coveralls on, he didn’t trust himself not to get an erection in the presence of the man he’d jerked off to countless times in the past month. He didn’t trust himself to respond to that question either so he just put the vial down and continued around the room instead. 

Finding a pack of cigarettes he smiled and lit one, then leaned against a table not far from the other and crossed his ankles then an arm over his chest. His expression turned dark and menacing as it had in the alley “I know exactly why I killed him…” he announced through a plume of smoke, ashing his cigarette on the floor “...because you wanted him.” His tone was one of absolute certainty, there was no question in his mind that was exactly the reason the boy had met his untimely end. Though why he had been driven so easily to such a thing remained a mystery to him.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Evil Rick watched the kid like a hawk as he walked around the lab, he was still on edge, still uncertain about this boy and his true motives. He had thought he had the measure of Rick after their bloody encounter in New York but now that he’d watched the boy murder someone in cold blood he realised how little he really knew about him. 

Rick’s announcement was met with a frozen expression as he attempted to internalise it,  _“Because I…”_  He stilled, as the unashamed confession said with such bold confidence settled inside him.  _“I didn’t want him.”_  He replied quietly thinking about his initial reaction to the blonde in the bar,  _“He was imperfect, wasn’t enough, wasn’t you.”_  He smoothed his hand down his own chest, sensing the chill in the air, suddenly feeling his nakedness for the first time since they’d burned their clothes. 

A half smile appeared on his face, more caused by surprise at himself than anything else, talking like this simply wasn’t something he was normally prepared to do. He looked up from the bottle of whiskey to catch the boy’s eye.

_“I thought you’d tracked me down seeking revenge, some part of me still believes it.”_

\--------------------------------------------------------

His fragile confidence was cracked by Rick’s response, he wasn’t him? He didn’t know what to make of that statement. He plopped down onto a stool with the weight of everything that had happened, looking at his hands again as if he could still see the boy's blood. “I didn’t track you down..” he corrected “You walked out of the bar and I followed you. It seemed stupid to let you out of my sights, I don’t know why.” A chill ran down his spine from the eye contact, he swallowed hard in response to it. “Logically it was far more stupid to follow you, seeing how you almost killed me” there was a nervous edge to his voice “I should be terrified to be this close to you..” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of something. Dragging on his cigarette he avoided looking at the other as his mind desperately tried to work all of this out. 

“As I followed you, I did have thoughts of bashing your head against a wall, surprising you and swapping our places, to tie you up while I got you back for each and every one of these.” He gestured to his scars then, using his cigarette hand to point with before ashing it on the floor. “But then.. then.. I don’t know!” He put his arms out and shrugged. “Everything went red when I came around the bins and saw the pair of you. Next thing I knew we were in a diner.” He sighed and leaned back against the table behind him, running a hand across his face before looking at it in disbelief again. “I-I.. I’ve killed a man.. for like, no reason at all.” He always imagined he’d do it by accident one day, in a fight or a break in.. but not like this. In a blind rage because his victim was simply touching a man he had to reason to be possessive over. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 _“You had a reason…”_  He replied flatly with not a hint of doubt in his mind,  knowing now that this boy had definitely killed for  _him_  and as much as it was startling, it equally as pleasing. 

Rising from his seat he moved towards the kid, reached forward and plucked the cigarette from his hand, taking a long drag on it before dropping it down to the floor.  _“…and you should be terrified to be this close to me.”_

He stepped closer and pulled the stool out from under Rick forcing him to stand. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he moved towards him reducing the gap between them in mere increments, his cold body instantly picking up the heat of Rick’s as he continued to come for him, one step at a time, slowly backing the kid up against the nearest wall. As they met with it, without warning or invitation, he reached his hand down to the kid’s thigh and smoothed his palm over the thick deep scar Rick had earlier been hiding from him, the one that was undeniably his favourite. His other hand snapped forward to pinch the boy’s chin and force him to continue maintaining eye contact as he pressed his bare chest against him.  _“What are you?”_  He mused almost silently as he found himself momentarily lost in the blue of those desperately confused eyes. He was gripping Rick’s thigh now, squeezing more than he should but truthfully he hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.  _“Would you do it again?”_  He asked, tilting his head to the side with a half-smile, still keeping the boy pinned in place.  _“Did you enjoy it Rick?”_

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The young rocker instinctively recoiled when Rick came towards him, leaning back away from the other man only to bump into the table. He watched, transfixed by the man’s impending presence, as his cigarette was taken and was completely unprepared to have the stool wrenched out from under him. “Ah! w-woah, what!” his stumbling to his feet was accompanied by stammering confusion as he was slowly backed towards the wall while struggling to regain his balance. 

He gulped as his body found the wall, bouncing slightly as he hit it. Eyes wide and frantically searching the other’s face, his apprehension caused his breath to quicken. In an instant he was simply prey in the face of a master predator again and all his recent cocky confidence plummeted into his gut allowing his nerves to flare up and start going haywire. His eyes fluttered and he gasped in a deep shaky breath as Rick grabbed at his inner thigh then he held his mouth open taking in quick and small trembling breaths as his companion held his face. 

The question met his ears like an incoherent buzzing with the overload of tingling nerves from the man’s touch. His entire system was alight with fear and dread over what was about to happen, and just beneath that an undeniable excitement he was about to be forced again. He swallowed hard to shove the confusing feelings back and stared back deeply into the other Rick’s eyes. Fuck that small smile was terrifyingly beautiful and made the hairs on his neck stand on end. “I-I.. I uh..” he took a deep breath to focus his thoughts and brought up the mental image of this Rick in that alley with the blond boy. His brow narrowed and his features became firm and resolute, the tremor in his voice being replaced with some confidence “I would do it again, absolutely.” 

He tried not to fixate on the increasing pressure on his thigh to answer the second question “and I..I” he let his eyes drift and un-focus and thought about the boy's last gulping breaths as he slid down the wall and the satisfying feeling of then being the only one in the alley with this Rick. A smirk curled up his cheek as his eyes snapped back to the older man “yes, I did.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The boy’s bright confidence had immediately faded under the weight of his uninvited touch and as the kid started to stutter, his breaths growing shallow and more laboured, Rick felt that familiar rush, knowing it intimately as it shot straight from his nervous stomach down to his groin.  _“I’ve never met anyone who would be willing to kill for my terrible company.”_  He teased, smoothing his hand up the boy’s slim stomach, past his ripped nipple to settle at the nape of his neck, feeling back in his stride for the first time in months. He’d thought about this moment for so long it still felt unreal, ethereal even, he had to continue touching to boy almost to prove to himself this was actually happening. He had concluded the kid was not a threat and in doing so had raised his own threat level ten fold. He wanted to make the boy blush for him, to hear him beg again, to make him  _his_  all over again but above all he wanted to watch him kill again. 

 _“I want you to do it again.”_  The whispered hungry words had poured out of him, spilled into the other’s ear before he’d even considered them properly, it felt like an innate need, one that currently defied logical explanation.  _“Fuck, I want us both to do it.”_  This time the expression was a practical moan against the boy’s throat and he pushed him against the wall, not rigid this time but _enveloping_. As he raised his head he brushed the edges of his weathered scar over Rick’s still healing lip then paused, his face no more than an inch from Rick’s, so close he could taste the boy’s breath.  _“Kiss me, kiss me and show me how much you want me to force myself inside you again…show me how much you’ve missed me.”_

\------------------------------------------------------------

The young musician shuddered as the other man ran his hand up his chest and tauntingly spoke to him. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that he had done just that, killed for this man’s company. He swallowed hard in response to the hand on his throat, looking up at the slightly taller man, a slight panic in his eyes. This definitely didn’t feel the same as the last time he’d found himself under Rick’s touch, he wasn’t being blindly led into the web this time, but he in no way felt in control. If anything, taking a life only made him feel more out of place with himself and more drawn to this man. 

“A-a-again?” he spluttered back full of shock as he felt himself being pulled into the captivation of this man, going weak at the knee and slack against the wall when Rick’s voice took on a moaning tone. He gasped himself as he was flooded with hormones and anxious endorphins, just being this close to this man would have done that, but the thought of them killing another person together made him light headed. He sucked in a very shaky breath at the touch of the other man’s lips over his scar and kept his wide eyes locked on his companion, hardly daring to believe he wasn’t dreaming. He’d had this fantasy so many times over the past weeks and now he was here, the man was in front of him again and he foolishly wasn’t doing a damned thing about it. 

He’d made the same decision just as Rick spoke his demand, and his hands came up to slide around the older man’s waist and hold him to him before he’d finished speaking. With nails digging into the other’s skin, he popped up and brought their mouths crashing together, doing exactly as instructed. The rocker kissed Rick like he’d been yearning for him for months, like he had been holding his breath for weeks until this very moment, like his heart had suddenly started beating again after laying dormant for a longer than he could bear. He kissed him like he’d never kissed anyone before, giving himself over to the other man fully through the union of their lips and pledging his everything to the man all over again, this time fully aware of the tragedies that were likely to follow.

============================================

Chapter 4 coming soon. 


End file.
